The Memoirs of James Norrington Part 1
by Tarlea
Summary: When we left Norrington he had died at sea at the hands of Davy Jones. Now, aboard the Flying Dutchman, he requests of Captain Turner the means to write his memoirs. The events we know and many we don'tfrom Norrington's POV. Part 1: Through COTBP.
1. Preface

Author's Note: I was watching POTC: AWE last night and I couldn't get the idea out of my head to tell the story from the perspective of Norrington. He's always been one of my favorite characters, and I thought he deserved a voice. Not sure really where this will go, or when it will be finished. I'll try my best to maintain continuity or accuracy with the films or historical reality, but I'm no naval scholar, so if you catch me in error, please speak up. Enjoy.

**PREFACE**

It was a cold, dark night in the abyss somewhere between this world and the next. Captain Will Turner was in his cabin, sipping the tea that his steward, Kirby, had just brought him, writing in his captain's log and reflecting on the events of the past few days. It had all happened so quickly. He had joined the fleet in its fight against the East India Company's armada, he had nearly died, and now he was Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_.

He glanced for the thousandth time at the small portrait of Mrs. Turner that sat smiling at him from the corner of his desk. Almost instinctively, he reached for the picture, and drew her sparkling eyes closer to him. It had only been a few hours since they had shared a day of paradise together, the day he had dreamed of all of his life. Elizabeth, whom he had loved for years without hope of attainment, was his wife.

He closed his eyes and smiled as he remembered the day. He could almost feel the warmth of her skin against his, holding her, reveling in the intoxicating bliss of just being near her, the passion of the deepest love flowing between them, connecting them in a way that even now, with miles between them, he could feel.

She was within him always, in the place where his heart should be he carried her. He opened his eyes and stared into the portrait. Her eyes answered him back, those eyes so full of love and warmth and spirit.

In the crow's nest, a man shouted, and the Captain was shaken out of his reverie. He sighed and placed the portrait back on his desk, pulling on his coat as he left his cabin to see what had been sighted.

As he walked onto the bridge, Mr. Turner let out a good-natured laugh.

"Only more passengers, Captain, no need to bother yourself about that."

The young man smiled sheepishly.

"I guess I haven't gotten used this job yet."

Both men turned to watch as a small boat approached at starboard. There were a few passengers inside.

Two ladies, one considerably less formally clad than the other who was leering at the male passengers in the boat, were accompanied by a man in sturdy, somewhat fashionable clothes that indicated trade, two red coats, and a naval officer, with his feathered hat and the decadent gold braid that the British navy favored. The officer had naturally fallen into leading the small party of departed souls, and was now calling to the men on the _Dutchman's_ deck. Lines were cast, and the men began helping the ladies aboard. Captain Turner was about to return to his cabin when he recognized the face of the officer.

"Admiral Norrington!" he called out, pleased to have met someone here who was part of his former life, however reserved that relationship had been.

James Norrington, Admiral of the East India Company in the Caribbean, looked up. There was a moment of silence between them, with the Admiral doing his best to hide his obvious surprise at seeing Will as the captain of the _Flying Dutchman_, before he Admiral touched his hat in salute, which the Captain returned. Then the former turned to help the remaining passengers climb aboard.

Eager to maintain the connection, the Captain descended to the main deck and waited for all of the passengers to board. Then he approached the Admiral. Holding out a hand, he shook the Admiral's in a truly sincere welcome.

"Welcome aboard the _Flying Dutchman_, Admiral."

"Thank you, Captain Turner." Both men seemed uneasy at the formality of the title.

There was a moment before the Admiral said, conversationally,

"You forget that I have been aboard her before. In fact it was on her deck that I died." He spoke matter-of-factly. "Strange to be here again."

There was a moment of silence as the speaker reflected upon his last passage aboard the _Dutchman_.

"So Turner, you were always a spirited fellow. How do you like being a captain?"

"I hardly know. I haven't been underway for very long. I find it keeps me busy though, which I like. I prefer it to being a blacksmith, certainly. And I suppose I was born to go to sea, like my father."

It was odd, but Will felt no awkwardness in opening up to the man. At this point, it seemed moot to be secretive or standoffish. "I first came to Port Royal aboard a ship when I was seven. Where your command found me."

_And I first met Elizabeth_, his thoughts finished for him. The expression on the Admiral's face suggested he was thinking something similar. "The merchant I was sailing with took me on as a cabin boy. And since then I've had my share of naval experience."

The Admiral smiled grimly. "Yes. If there's one thing we both have, it's experience."

Silence again, as both men sank into their memories. Then the Admiral spoke, with an indefinable tone in his voice.

"If you will excuse me, Captain, I feel rather tired. I think I shall go below decks and secure a berth."

Will nodded, knowing that now he was dead the Admiral would feel neither fatigue nor hunger, but accepted the excuse. They shook hands again.

"Rest well, Admiral." Will mounted the steps to his cabin and turned.

"Admiral," he called after the man, "You are welcome to dine with me tomorrow evening, if you choose."

In response, the Admiral touched his hat respectfully, then turned to go below decks. The offer was a formality, Will knew, for the Admiral would not eat, but he would be glad of the company. Giving a nod to his father at the wheel, Captain Turner stepped inside his cabin, and snuffing his candles, climbed into bed.

----------

The next morning, as Will ate his breakfast, there was a knock on his cabin door. Kirby entered, announcing the Admiral. Will half-smiled at Kirby's formality aboard a vessel such as this.

Kirby had joined the crew only last night. He had come aboard with his former master, a gentleman traveling to Virginia to survey his tobacco interests, who could not have done without his best manservant, Kirby. Being dead, the master had no further use for the man, and, unlike any of the other crew on the _Flying Dutchman_, Kirby could cook. Will had offered him the steward's position, and the former manservant had taken the position along with the immortality it offered, but he still carried his English drawing room training with him.

Kirby's sober face disappeared, and in its place was the equally staid face of Admiral Norrington. When he saw the breakfast tray he spoke.

"I am sorry. I did not wish to disturb you."

"Not at all. Please, sit." The new Captain was still getting used to the gentility that accompanied his captaincy. "I trust you spent the night well. Are your quarters satisfactory?"

"Very well, thank you. Actually, I came to ask you a favor."

Will raised an eyebrow. "What can I do?" His surprise peeled the drawing-room lace off of his demeanor.

" I was hoping I might beg of you adequate materials for writing." Will released his gaze from the Admiral.

"By all means. How much did you want?"

"I would not wish to inconvenience you. Whatever you can spare."

"What do you need it for?"

The Admiral rose and walked to the window. In his calculated manner, he explained,

"I have thought I wanted to write a memoir of my life. It has not been a very illustrious one I am sure, but there have been things I have done that I should like to account for, so that--the world--will remember James Norrington as an honorable man, and a steadfast officer of His Majesty's Navy." He spoke almost to himself for the last words.

Will replied quietly with genuine respect, "There can be no question that your memory will be preserved, Admiral." A pause.

"Take what you need. Kirby will supply you. Kirby!" The white-wigged man entered the cabin.

"Sir?"

"See to it that the Admiral has everything he needs. Tell the quartermaster I sent you."

"Yes, sir. Will there be anything else, sir?"

"Thank you, Kirby, that will be all. Good-day Admiral."

"Thank you again, Captain, for all of your hospitality." The Admiral gave a small bow, and turned to follow Kirby, who had gone to seek the quartermaster.

Twenty minutes later, the Admiral sat in his cabin, took out a sheet of paper from the stack the steward had secured for him, and, dipping his pen into the borrowed inkwell, began to write:

_To be a collection of memoirs of the life of James Wentworth Norrington, former Admiral, in the service of The East India Company of England in the Caribbean. _

Having thus titled his work, he paused, and contemplated how to begin.

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Author's Note: Should you need it, Ch. 26 is a character index.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

_I was born James Wentworth Norrington on the Twenty-Seventh of January in the Year of Our Lord Seventeen Hundred and --, in Weymouth, England, to Bertram and Dorothea Norrington. _

_My father, Bertram Norrington served as an officer in His Majesty's Navy, providing a daily contact with the ships in the harbor, and the sea upon which they sailed. _

_I never knew my mother. When I was still in my infancy, she was shot by a thief who was trying to steal her silver vanity. My father was at sea, and I was with my nurse. She died shortly after the attack. _

_I was raised by my uncle, as my father was at sea many months out of the year. When father was home, he'd take me to stay at his house by the harbor, and I'd steal into my mother's room and look through her things, trying in vain to conjure even the slightest hint of a memory. When that didn't work, I would spend hours sitting on the floor in the portrait gallery staring up at her smiling face. Though I never knew her, as soon as I was old enough to understand her fate, I swore to spend my life snuffing out the kind of dangerous greed and lawlessness that encouraged such murder. _

_When I was old enough, my uncle sent me to school in Southampton. There I gained a gentleman's education. When I finished school, it seemed only natural I should have a career at sea, as my father before me. My first commission was aboard the HMS Minerva under Captain Carriger, a fine man, and a fine seaman who taught me many of the most important lessons I learned about naval authority and discipline upon one's vessel. _

_I rose under the Captain to the rank of Lieutenant. On the day I was to test for my lieutenancy, I learned that my father had died of disease at sea. My examination was postponed for a month._

_Once I achieved my Lieutenant's status, I felt I wanted new challenges to prove myself worthy of the title. I knew I wanted to leave England, to leave the memory of my parents behind me and build a new life for myself somewhere in the new world. My request was granted, and I was assigned to the HMS Endurance under Captain Helmer. _

_My first voyage as Lieutenant was across the Pacific to the King's colony of Port Royal, Jamaica. When I arrived, I was to take up position there under Admiral Braithwaite, a man whose sole duty was to eradicate the lawlessness that plagued the colonies thereabouts, and particularly to protect the King's trade ports from the rampant piracy of the Caribbean. I was eager to begin my new life, and I felt sure that I would do well under such a man._

_I was joined on my voyage by the King's Governor of Port Royal, Governor Weatherby Swann. The governor brought with him his young daughter, Elizabeth, as his wife had died almost a year ago of consumption, and he had only just gained a reprieve from his duties to voyage to England and retrieve the child. At first my ambition provoked me to make the connection; I could rise well under the patronage of such a man; but soon I felt as though the governor were an old friend, closer to me than my own father had been. As the years passed, he oversaw my career at Port Royal, and often had me to dine with himself and Elizabeth. The girl grew older year by year, and it was apparent that he wished I should become a more permanent part of his family. In time it became the wish dearest to my heart. _

Here the Admiral paused and poured himself a glass of port from the stock he had found in his cabin. He sighed and drank it down in one skilled gulp. He did it mostly out of habit, not that he felt its affect in this place, though the taste was a pleasant reminder of his living days. He loosened his cravat and leaned back in his chair. Tilting his head back, he closed his eyes and thought about Elizabeth. With her image filling his mind and his heart swimming with affection, he sat forward, drowned another useless glass of port, and wrote.

_The first time I saw Elizabeth, she was standing by her father's side, waiting to board the Endurance. She watched the ships in the harbor with excited eyes, and dropped a curtsy to every sailor or seaman that passed, much to her father's chagrin and scolding. I found from my perch upon the E's deck that I could not help watching her. _

_Her nature was so open and honest, so joyful and sincere, so unabashedly confident and carefree, that she quickly charmed each sailor as he passed. Even the men carrying heavy trunks up the gangplank would find a free hand to tip their hat to the young mistress. She made fast friends with the bosun Mr. Gibbs, whose tales of pirates and swashbuckling heroes fed her vivid imagination, though his seaman's superstitions kept him muttering about the ill luck a woman brought aboard a sailing vessel. _

_In some ways I suppose he was right. The efficiency of the crew seemed to have slipped with her aboard. When they ought to be mending sails or tending to the lines you'd find the men teaching her how to tie sailor's knots or dance the hornpipe. She even found a way to bewitch me from my duties. Her father could do nothing but fret about the exposure to rough life and rough language that his daughter was receiving at the hands of my crew. _

_I once came upon her in a secluded corner of the ship with her father. He was weeping for the memory of his wife, and she was there to comfort him. I drew back politely, but something made me watch from my hiding place. Silent tears were streaking her cheeks, which she was making a valiant effort to sustain, though her tiny lip trembled violently. She took one of her father's large hands in her miniature one, and with all of her courage put a hand on his face and, tears escaping her efforts, looked into the sad, tired, haggard face and smiled. As I watched her smile grow, I felt her take a permanent hold of my heart. She was only ten, but I knew at that moment our destinies were somehow connected._

_Her bravery then I shall never forget. Nor the pain that would come immediately after my revelation. As I stood, watching this private moment, her gaze found me, and in sudden understanding of my purpose, her young watery eyes fixed upon me with indignant scorn. _

_I was shocked out of my hiding place and back to my duties, but I could not forget the burning of that gaze, the disdain with which she had harpooned me to the very core. It would not be the first time that she would look at me that way; nor the first time I would deserve her contempt. _

_The rest of the voyage continued without event until we neared the outskirts of the Caribbean Sea. When we were but two weeks from our destination, we happened upon the burning remains of a merchant ship. My immediate thought was of the pirates that terrorized the area, but not wishing to alarm the civilian passengers on deck and Elizabeth who was standing by, I made a comment about the powder magazine. Her eyes watched the damage with curiosity, and she positively bounced when Mr. Gibbs mentioned pirates. _

_In an impetuous urge to command her youthful admiration in the way that the grizzly bosun so easily could, I colorfully announced my determination to become a scourge of piracy in the Caribbean. My candor was admonished by the Governor, but Elizabeth seemed temporarily won, until she spotted one of the survivors in the water. _

_He was a young boy around her age, dressed in simple clothes and floating unconscious on a piece of the wreckage. We hauled him aboard, and to distract her from the carnage as we retrieved the other survivors, the governor assigned Elizabeth to watch over him. _

_Little did I know that in those few moments a bond was created that even my love could not overtake. _

Having written this, the Admiral doused his candle, pulled on his coat, tied his cravat, and checking his appearance in his small mirror, stepped out of his cabin to take a brisk walk and clear his thoughts before his dinner with the Captain.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

In the glow of the cabin light, two men shook hands, silhouetted against the dark night by the orange light that spilled through the open doorway. The taller of the two figures turned and moved out of the candlelight into the darkness of the ship's deck, disappearing from view amid the starless, moonless night that covered the ragged ship like a thick black tar. The captain watched him go, and then turned into his cabin, pulling the door shut behind him.

Will sighed and sat down at his desk. The dinner had gone well, been enjoyable even, but try as he might, Captain Turner could not break through Admiral Norrington's formality. The man had seemed distant during the meal, absent-mindedly eating a serving of the food Kirby brought out of courtesy, drinking down the wine, and making conversation about the weather, the condition of the monarchy, and the fate of the colonies should the war with Spain resume. The Admiral was doing commendably, making conversation about current world affairs as though he were not on a voyage to a world separated from the living forever.

During a lull, Will commented that the _Dutchman_ was in capital condition considering her years of service and made mention of her performance in the battle against the East India's armada. Being deceased, Admiral Norrington had missed the fighting, and for some time the men passed into a state of almost camaraderie as Will recounted the details of the battle blow by blow, with his companion asking questions and occasionally uttering exclamations of appreciation for the sport.

The teller carefully avoided the painful details having to with Elizabeth or himself, as Will had noticed that throughout the dinner the Admiral's eyes had flicked towards the portrait of Mrs. Turner more than a few times.

When he had finished his story, Will thought he could see a wistful glint in those tired brown eyes. Those eyes that had once sparkled with the ambition of a young man setting out in life, who loved the sea, a man with dreams and ambitions, a man that Captain Turner knew very well.

After playing a few games of cards, all of which the Admiral lost, Will broke up the party, realizing that the Admiral was eager to be alone with his thoughts, but not before he extracted a promise from the man to dine with him again the following night.

The Captain thought again about the Admiral's enthusiasm for the battle and his look of longing for seafaring life. He leaned forward, poured himself another glass of wine, and, toasting the beaming portrait of his wife, snuffed out his candles, and climbed into bed.

---------

The Admiral returned to his quarters, knowing that he wouldn't need sleep, and sat down again to take up his work.

_As we continued on our way, we encountered further evidence of piracy, but thankfully faced none of the dogs ourselves. I was too busy to spend time courting Elizabeth's youthful affections, and she spent her time below decks caring for young William Turner, the boy we had pulled from the wreckage. _

_Turner possessed a strong constitution and within days he was ready to leave his cabin, but his precocious young nursemaid insisted he stay the week out, so that she might continue ministering to him. On Friday he emerged, a little pale looking, but eager to be on board and be of use. We had little employment for him though, as we arrived at Port Royal within another week. _

_There the Governor and I parted, he taking Elizabeth and the lad with him. He established young Turner as an apprentice to the blacksmith Mr. Brown, though my suspicion is that the boy learned his trade mostly through solitary study, as Mr. Brown remained comatose every day but Sunday, when he would appear with Turner in church, looking less rumpled but smelling no less of gin. _

_I found Mr. Braithwaite and took up my post in the small house near the fort that was afforded me as a Lieutenant. It needed some attention and modestly furnished, but far better than the Lieutenant's quarters I would have received in England, and there was a pleasant view of the sea from its large window. _

_I had been living there only a week, scarcely settled, when I received an invitation to dine with the Governor. His house was a glittering contrast to my humble seaside abode. Large and opulent, with clean, white marbles and shimmering guilts, rich fabrics and grand staircases. I felt rather shabby in my Lieutenant's uniform amid all of this splendor (even my uncle had not been this wealthy), but when I was ushered into the drawing room by one of the white-whigged servants, the Governor greeted me warmly, and I soon felt at home sitting and chatting with Admiral Braithwaite about naval matters. _

_The Governor insisted, however, that I be introduced to every pretty and eligible girl in the room, and so I spent my time regaling countless young ladies and their scheming mamas with accounts of my naval adventures, embellishing the rather mundane years of my service, as yet un-adorned by any real action. _

_At dinner the talk turned to securing our ports, and Admiral Braithwaite and I were able to lead a discussion detailing our plans to do just that; but only, the Admiral teased one of the young Miss Parks', if he could have the pleasure of hearing the ladies sing. That comment moved everyone to the drawing room to the pianoforte, where both the Miss Parks' played and sang, followed by Miss Eyton, Miss Latimer, and Miss Barclay played while her fiancé, a Mr. Branson, sang. I was urged to join in, but declined, as I am no singer._

_Elizabeth, of course, was in the schoolroom, but as I escorted Miss Latimer and her mother to their carriage, I thought I saw a glimpse of her small, curious face peering at me through an upstairs window. I handed Miss Latimer into her carriage, and closed the door. When I looked again at the window, the face was gone. Having secured the ladies, I returned to the house to share final drink with the Governor. _

_"So James, I think you found Miss Latimer quite amusing?" The older man had a gleam in his eye._

_"I confess I did, yes. She is very accomplished." I admitted without any real fervor. _

_"Accomplished! Ah James, I fear you shall never take a wife."_

_"I am young still, and have my fortune to make. I do not yet feel myself--I have not yet reached the position that would recommend me to a wife."_

_"But my dear boy, you could become engaged at least! You could wait to marry until you had made your fortune."_

_"I do not have the temper for long engagements. Nor have I found a woman with whom I wish to engage in matrimony."_

_The Governor seemed as though he were about to say something, but checked himself and raised his glass instead. _

"_Well, here's to the future Mrs. Norrington. May she be everything you seek--and more."_

_With a small chuckle we drained our glasses and soon afterward I bid him goodnight._

_As I lay in my bed listening to the waves brushing the shore, I couldn't help wondering what kind of woman I would choose as my bride. Picturing different beguiling faces in my mind, this one dark, this one fair, this one rosy; I let a warm, wine-drenched sleep carry me deeper into my fantasies, as the heat of the Caribbean night incited my imagination and gave me a night filled with vivid, enticing dreams. _

Almost laughing at such an absurdly fanciful sentence, the Admiral made a move to strike it, but stopped, deciding it was unimportant. He didn't know what time it was, and he wished he was able to be tired so he might sleep. Restless, he left his cabin and walked about on deck.

In the distance he could see the grey light of dawn beginning to break across the horizon. He walked to the ship's bridge, nodding to the man an the wheel. He stood, hands behind his back, feet spread apart in his usual seaman's stance, and remembered the times he had stood watch on the _Minerva's_ deck making a thousand wishes on the first rays of morning light.

He stood there now, for the first time overcome with grief at the memory of the life he would leave behind. As he watched, the sun slowly spilled over the horizon and glinted against the green waves. He sighed, and giving another nod to the helmsman, descended once again into his cabin.

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Author's Note: Sorry guys, I got a little Jane Austen in this chapter. I also apologize for writing so much about Will. It just happens. I was also kind of having problems bringing this chapter to a close. Enjoy! P.S. Thanks to reviewers!


	4. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Hey guys, it's been a while. I got to a block and wasn't sure where to go, and then things got busy. I suppose I'll keep writing filler--er, 'character building'--chapters to keep you types happy until I get some direction again. Thanks to Mouse In the Opera House for kicking my butt and getting me to update!

**Chapter Three**

James Norrington took up his pen again.

_Shortly after the dinner party, Admiral Braithwaite became engaged to Miss Isabelle Parks, the eldest of the two sisters. There was much talk throughout Port Royal, as his wife had died only a year and a half ago, but eventually society declared it a good match on both sides. With wedding preparations taking most of his time, the Admiral didn't seem to find the time to handle his duties as naval commander of Port Royal, and encouraged by Governor Swann, handed over many of the administrative duties to his senior officers._

_It is not for me to say a word against my superior officers, but for whatever reason, much of the work fell into my hands. I was young, and eager to prove myself, and I learned much during that year. It was I who instituted the first census of Port Royal, uncovering scores of illegal and piratical activity among the unemployed. _

_While the Admiral was enjoying the smiles and flattery of Miss Parks and her mother, I established a public works program, supplied by the convicts from the city gaol. Within the first month, these former thieves and murderers had repaired the battered Southern ramparts of the fort, the belfry in the church, and were set to build a new schoolhouse abutting the old to house the growing number of affluent children in Port Royal. I must say I did very well, taking the methods of Admiral Braithwaite a step further. It is only due to the Governor's efforts that I actually received credit for my improvements, much to the chagrin of my fellow officers. _

_At the end of the year the wedding finally came. It was a lavish affair, and all of fashionable Port Royal was in attendance. Again, I was encouraged to dance with several amiable and accomplished young ladies, while their mothers cooed over all of my fine improvements. _

_As it was an afternoon party, Elizabeth was present, looking like a slender china doll in her blue frock, with her hair laced with dozens of shimmering ribbons. As I chatted with Mrs. Applegate--whose niece, she was informing me, would arrive in Port Royal next month unattached--I watched her. She was doing her very best to stand still and not muss her appearance, very clearly on orders from her governess who was standing by, looking rather wistfully at the dancers. As I watched, a young man crossed the courtyard and asked the governess to dance. She accepted, gladly, seeming to forget her young charge as she bounced into the dance. _

_Elizabeth swayed a little, and a bored expression fixed itself more pronouncedly upon her adolescent face. I moved over to her, wanting to somehow save her from that look. I gave her a bow._

"_Miss Swann."_

"_Lieutenant Norrington." She bobbed a graceful curtsy._

"_And how are you enjoying the party, Miss Swann?" I asked, trying to think of something to amuse her. She replied with well-bred cordiality._

"_It was a beautiful wedding. The dress came all the way from London. I have never been to London. Have you?"_

"_Yes. A few times. And should you like to go to London?"_

"_Yes." She stated matter-of-factly. "But I'd really love to go to India. I read a book about how the Maharajah has dozens of wives and rides about on an elephant all day. Have you ever seen an elephant, Lieutenant Norrington?" _

_Her eyes had lost their boring expression as she began to talk of travel. I found myself drawn by her fervent interest to be bold and more outspoken than I usually was. _

"_No, I have not. But since you love India so much, I shall have to take you there in my ship someday, and we shall ride on an elephant all day and have tea with the Maharaja."_

"_When you are captain?" _

_The tone of her voice made me wish I was a captain. Suddenly all of my achievements seemed insufficient, because in the eyes of this young girl I was nothing, I did not have a ship with which to take her away to all of the places she dreamed about. _

_She looked at me quizzically, almost critically. I looked back into those eyes, so calculating and knowing for one so young. Those eyes that always made me want to act so completely unlike myself, to be impetuous and indulge in her childish fantasies right along with her. There was something in her that filled a need I didn't know that I possessed, a comforting, happy feeling I felt warm me whenever I was near her. _

"_Lieutenant?" _

_Her voice broke into my thoughts, and I realized from her face that I had been staring at her. I quickly looked away and then, as if to cover up my indiscreet behavior, I bowed low and asked, _

"_Miss Swann, would you do me the honor of the next dance?"_

_She looked at me a moment, and then turning back to watch the dancers said, matter of factly, _

"_I don't think I like dancing."_

_I laughed in spite of myself. _

"_Come now, Miss Swann, all pretty girls love to dance."_

"_I don't know. Dancing master always comes to the house on Thursdays and I hate it." _

_She spoke very decidedly. Then she added. _

"_He treats me like a child." _

_As she said it, she seemed to stand a little taller, and her voice adopted a tone of haughtiness. _

"_Besides, I always have to dance with Meredith, and she can't keep time and is always stepping on my feet." _

_I grinned inwardly._

"_Then you mean to say you've never danced with a boy before?"_

"_No." _

_She seemed almost wistful as she said it. _

"_Well then, Miss Swann, allow me to recommend myself to you as an excellent partner." _

_I bowed low again and offered her my hand. She hesitated for a moment and then smiled as she took it. _

"_I should be delighted, Lieutenant."_

_I felt giddy and delightfully foolish as I led her to the dance floor, careless of the impropriety of what I was doing, grinning like an idiot, and I admit, happy to not care. The music began, a bouncing, rollicking tune. I bowed to Elizabeth and then we were off into the dance, she giggling merrily and I laughing along. I couldn't remember the last time I had had such fun. I felt like a schoolboy again, as though when the dance ended I might step with Elizabeth into her rosy world of youth._

_When that song ended, the music became slow. I looked at her flushed face questioningly and she nodded, panting happily, to say that we should dance another. As I led her through the dance, it was apparent that, despite her dislike of dancing lessons, she had learned how to dance superbly. Perhaps her step had more bounce in it than was fashionable, but she would grow out of that. _

_Halfway through the dance, I felt a hand tap me on the shoulder, and once I had completed the ladies' pass with the young lady next to me, I turned to look into the somewhat amused face of Governor Swann. When I looked back, Elizabeth had been pulled out of the dance by her governess, and was dutifully donning a silvery blue cape that matched her dress. I stepped out of the dance and joined the Governor._

"_Well, James?" _

_It was a jovial reproach._

"_I beg your pardon, sir. I was not thinking."_

"_Yes, I can see that." _

_Though scolding me, there was a gentle mocking in his voice._

"_It won't happen again sir, I promise you."_

_He chuckled. _

"_James, it's not that I object to you dancing with my daughter. All of Port Royal knows you are an intimate friend of this family. But Elizabeth is not even out, she's hardly twelve."_

"_I'm very sorry sir. I did not mean to--" _

_The older man put up a hand to stop my apology. _

"_Apology accepted, Lieutenant." _

_He smiled, then sighed. _

"_She looks so like her mother tonight. Charlotte was a superb dancer." _

_He gave a small laugh. _

"_I remember the first time I got up the courage to ask her to dance. I was so nervous I stepped on Lady Carrigan's train and almost pulled it clean off." _

_We had a good laugh at that._

Norrington sighed sadly and rubbed his eyes. He missed that blithe young man who stood in the warm summer night of the Caribbean. He told himself he would meet the Governor soon. He was still deeply troubled when he thought about the man's death, or rather, murder. When Elizabeth lost her father, he had as good as lost his.

_After the wedding I didn't see Elizabeth for some time. In an attempt to repair her reputation to some degree, her father kept her out of the public eye for a few weeks, and I felt I should stay away longer out of respect. The months passed and before I knew it the new year had come. _

_Then one morning in August, when the whole of Port Royal was cloaked in rain, I had a visit from Sergeant Petersen of the Royal Marines. He ducked under the doorway of my house, dripping rain and shivering. Over his mouth he clutched a wet handkerchief into which he coughed. He allowed my aide to remove his coat and hat, and when his face was revealed I was gripped with a terrible chilling dread._

"_Sir." _

_He began gruffly, and coughed._

"_Good God. It can't be?"_

_He shivered his assent. _

"_One of the ships from the Carolinas."_

_I walked to the window and stared out at the torrential rain. The raindrops pelted the water and made angry furrows on its surface. They reminded me of the red welts upon the face of the man who stood unsteadily behind me. The dismal rain seemed nothing to the horrors that lay ahead for Port Royal, and I suddenly wished I had visited Elizabeth and her father more often over the past months, gossip or no. _

"_Are you a religious man, Sergeant?" _

"_I reckon so, sir. I ain't no church-goer, but I believe in God if that's what you mean." _

_His voice was tired. He coughed. The rain drummed angrily on the roof._

"_Then let us pray God will preserve us."_

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	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

_The rain was still pouring down relentlessly upon the stone walls of Fort Port Royal when I followed the red-eyed sergeant out into the street. I mimicked the sergeant, in a long coat, hat, and with a dark scarf covering my mouth. It was so wet I felt as though I were on board ship, and I could smell the sodden humidity that was thick in the hot air. The primitive dirt roads had been reduced to rushing rivulets of water and mud, and as I stepped over a veritable pond of the muck, I made a mental note to have the public works crew turn their attention to cobbling the roads as soon as the rainy season ended. _

_We neither of us spoke, the sergeant taking large, shaky steps, as though he were drunk, I following behind. As I watched him amble along, I reasoned that he might be a little drunk, and a moment later he stopped and removed his handkerchief to let an eruption of putrid liquid emerge. Wiping his hand on his wet sleeve, he replaced the handkerchief, and continued on. _

_The walk to the Fort was not a long one, as Lieutenant I needed to be nearby, but today it seemed to take forever. This was not the effect of the rain so much as the dread of what awaited me when I arrived. The sergeant had stood in my entryway and told me the whole story. _

_How, four days ago a ship had come from the Carolina colonies with marines to answer Admiral Braithwaite's call for more troops. I myself had read the report from the harbor officer that morning, before pushing it aside to deal with more important matters. He told how those soldiers had been a bit ill, but how no one had thought it amiss as seasickness was common and did not pass for at least a day. How they had been put into the barracks with the other soldiers, and how the red welts had appeared and now spread throughout the whole garrison and, God help us, small portions of the citizens. _

_At last, the fort's stone archways loomed ahead of us. The remaining healthy soldiers of the fort were spread in a tenuous line across the fort's landward perimeter to enforce a quarantine until the disease had passed. The sergeant and I walked straight to the barracks. _

_I stood at the door and looked in, pressing my scarf to my mouth even tighter at the sight of the rows of men, sleeping fitfully, all covered with the same rash that I had seen on the sergeant. Some men coughed violently, some called for water, others prayed, and several men scratched furiously in an attempt to rid themselves of their discomfort. _

_Seeing me, the fort's surgeon emerged, hunching his shoulders against the rain. The man seemed to be touched with a miraculous immunity, as he was unfazed by the disease that surrounded him. _

"_Measles." _

_He used the word as a greeting. _

"_It is as I expected." _

_We were laconic in the face of the suffering. _

"_Have we lost any yet?"_

_The surgeon sniffed. _

"_Fourteen, sir. More on the way by my diagnosis."_

"_Can nothing be done?"_

"_Sorry Lieutenant. You know as well as I that there is nothing to do but wait it out. We should know in a week or two. It is not good of you to stay here, Lieutenant. You are susceptible too, you know."_

_Suddenly I was keenly aware of my physical condition. I felt fine, but was I catching the virus? I left the sickroom, desperately pleading with God that he should spare me from the disease. I walked up onto the fire step, looking out into the sea. _

_How I wished I could climb on board a ship and take my chances among the tumultuous waves. At least the sea was something you could fight. You could use canvas and oak to battle her fury and harness her power. But disease was hopeless, uncontrollable, and mankind was powerless to stop it. _

At that moment a knock sounded on the cabin door and startled James Norrington out of his reveries. He put down his pen and went to open the door. He was met there by the proper and precise Kirby, who respectfully reminded him that it was time for his dinner with the captain.

Looking back at his half-filled parchment, the Admiral hesitated, then just as respectfully declined the invitation, sending his apologies with Kirby and a promise to come to Captain Turner's cabin later for a glass of wine and a hand of cards. Returning to his seat, he let himself sink deep into his memories once again.

_As I walked along in the rain, I felt a pang of fear that was more piercing than my current worries. What if the Governor or Elizabeth were stricken with the disease? I suddenly felt an overwhelming remorse. I was seized with the guilty superstition that because I had kept away I had condemned one or both of them to disease. _

_I scolded my conscience, told myself that my irrational fears were nonsense, that Elizabeth and her father were fine, the epidemic surely had not spread to that area of the town. 'Not yet,' my mind finished for me. But Elizabeth and her father were at a serious risk. I made my mind up to call upon the Governor and Elizabeth right away to assure myself of their health and to secure arrangements for their departure. _

_As I climbed down the fort's stone steps I heard two of the men talking loudly to be heard over the rain._

"_It's a curse from above so it is, like this whole God-forsaken place. Half the lads in bed sick with it, and Thomson and Miller dead. It's a punishment, Fred, and you'd best pray you don't catch it."_

_Another voice, deep and heavily accented, answered the first. _

"_Ah, Don't worry. I've had my brush with the judgment and been delivered. A month ago, my wife Susan had the fever. Like to die of it she was, you remember, and then she made a full recovery."_

"_That were a miracle of God it was." _

_The first voice opined._

"_Yeh, well, it's all on account of that old witchdoctor what comes round every now and then."_

"_You mean the dark-skinned servant of Satan what trades in the market? You made a pact with the devil?"_

"_She weren't no devil. She's a witch yes, but she gave my Susan a drought that brought her from the edge of death, and that can't be black magic."_

"_Well, I reckon not. But I'll still say a prayer under my breath each time she passes."_

_I stepped past the two men, who quieted when they saw me, giving a hasty salute which I didn't bother to return. I borrowed a horse from the Fort's stables, saddling it myself in the absence of the sick stable hands. _

_I arrived at the Governor's mansion soaked through, and as I waited in the entryway dripping onto the polished floors, I felt ashamed and sincerely wished I had taken the time to return to my quarters and change before bursting in on the Governor like this. _

_Clearly having had an account of my rather saturated appearance, the Governor had deemed to come and meet me, rather than have me track mud on his elegant rugs. As soon as his face appeared at the top of the stairs, I felt even more foolish in my visit. At once my fears seemed completely unfounded, and I chided myself for having been so impulsive. He frowned at me, then spoke. _

"_Lieutenant Norrington. What an unexpected surprise. You've chosen a most unpleasant time for a visit, I should have thought no living creature would have stirred out of doors in such weather." _

_His voice was smooth and social, despite his evident surprise upon seeing me. _

"_Yes. Forgive me, I had some urgent business to speak with you about--that is to say, I have something I must acquaint you with--"_

"_Lieutenant. Have you dined?" _

_All of a sudden I felt ravenously hungry, and then remembered that I had not had lunch. _

"_No sir, I have not."_

"_Then perhaps you would care to join me?"_

"_I would be honored. Thank you." _

_I bowed, but the multitude of water that surrounded me caused me to slip, and I fell rather ungracefully in a wet heap. The Governor let out a whole-hearted chuckle. Through his uncontrollable laughter he managed to get out _

"_I'll send a servant for a change of clothes for you."_

_An hour later, cleaned, and changed into a dry set of clothes, I sat at the Governor's large table, dining on braised pork and feeling far more relaxed. Elizabeth was absent, and when I inquired as to the reason, her father replied that she was feeling a bit unwell and was taking dinner in her room. My gut wrenched with new-found apprehension. _

"_Sir. I have nearly forgotten my business with you. I'm afraid that I have some most serious news, concerning yourself and Elizabeth." _

_I proceeded to tell him what I knew. He listened with a furrowed brow, his dinner forgotten. As I watched him I realized how important Elizabeth was to him, and I remembered that his wife had died of disease. When I had finished my explanation, he was silent. Then a voice, tired and old asked, _

"_What can I do, James?" _

_The helplessness of his voice touched me deeply, and I felt as though I must save him and his daughter no matter what it took. _

"_You must leave Port Royal. Go away for a few weeks until the contagion passes. You must hurry before the town is quarantined, or you will have difficulty getting out." _

_I blushed, realizing that as governor, he could travel wherever he chose with no opposition, that in fact it would be he who authorized the quarantine._

"_I'll see to arrangements immediately." _

_As he said this he stood and pulled a tasseled cord on the wall behind him. _

"_Elizabeth and I shall leave first thing in the morning."_

"_Where will you go?" _

"_I don't know. Would Santo Domingo be far enough away do you think?"_

"_Yes. Quite." _

_I knew it would be too far for me to come and visit, and that troubled me. _

"_You will write to me, and tell me how you do?"_

"_Yes, of course."_

_At that moment a servant appeared, and was given instructions to pack for a month's stay in Santo Domingo for himself and Elizabeth, and to be ready to depart in the morning. Knowing our evening was over, I finished my dinner and quickly took my leave. As I rose to go, the Governor grasped my hand firmly, worried despite his smile. _

"_Thank you, Lieutenant."_

"_Good luck, sir." _

_With that I donned my hat and stepped out into the drenched Caribbean night._

The Admiral dropped his quill and stretched. Then, he put a hand into his waistcoat pocket and pulled out his watch. It was late, but he had promised the captain a visit, and so he stood and dressed himself, carefully tying his cravat.

The last thing he did was to lean down, shake a shower of powder over his page, and blow on it lightly. Then he placed it, along with his other completed pages, safely into the small letter box that had been leant him. He blew out his candle, and stepped out of his cabin, pulling the door behind him.

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Author's Note: In 1747 there was a measles epidemic in South Carolina which I have here borrowed for my story. Today measles is relatively harmless due to the invention of antibiotics and will pass with some discomfort within a week or so. In Norrington's time, measles was a serious epidemic, killing thousands. The disease is airborne and so _extremely_ contagious. There is no prevention besides quarantine, and without modern medicines the only thing to do is rest the patient and wait. The symptoms of measles include rash, fever of about 104 degrees, conjunctivitis (inflammation of the eye), and basic cold symptoms.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

"Ah. Admiral Norrington. Please, sit down."

"Thank you."

Norrington sat in the seat nearest the captain and took the proffered glass of deep red wine.

"I missed you at dinner, Admiral. I trust you are not unwell."

Will was worried he might be pressuring Admiral Norrington into these dinners, and he thought perhaps the older man had purposefully avoided tonight's meal.

"On the contrary, sir. I was simply at a point in my work that I did not want to leave unfinished. I am sure you can relate."

It seemed an odd sentiment, and a semi-awkward silence fell between the two men. The only similarity these men shared in tastes and pursuits was Elizabeth Swann, and the sea. Yet despite the awkwardness and the distance, Norrington found he was growing to like these conversations. Whatever he and Will Turner had been to one another in life, there was a solace and familiarity in the fact that William Turner was a man who knew something of his experiences of life, knew the evils they both had faced in Davy Jones and Cutler Beckett, and knew the grace, charm, and beauty of Elizabeth.

There was also the familiar comradery of being shipmates. At sea life and death were in a delicate balance, and a crew had to rely entirely on one another to come out alive and there was no room for hostility. In life, James Norrington had looked down on Turner as a reckless young firebrand, but now he was beginning to see a responsible and compassionate man emerge from the adventurous boy--that, as much as he hated to admit it, reminded him of another very familiar young man out to make his future.

The captain broke the silence first.

"Might I venture to ask of what you are writing?"

Will asked the question apprehensively, tried to make it sound casual and conversational, but he was aware that he was tottering on the edge of propriety to ask such a question. The admiral didn't reply right away. He seemed to be judging whether or not he ought to disclose such intimate reflections, but decided that in the end his work would be read by the captain anyway.

"Do you recall when Elizabeth was sick?"

It was the first time since each man's departure from the living that her name had passed between them. It hung in the air like the putrid smoke of a ship's cannon just after firing. Each man tried to pretend that the name had not had any effect on them.

"How could I forget."

Will's voice was loaded with more emotion than he had intended.

"I was sick too, if you remember."

"Yes, I remember."

Another awkward silence fell. James Norrington did remember. He remembered how he had received a note from one of the governor's servants in the morning while he was signing reports showing that five more men had died during the night. The rain had turned most of Port Royal into marshland, and a sergeant with a hooked nose was chomping on his breakfast of salt pork and demanding to know where he should bury the corpses so that their bodies would not resurface as the rain stripped the ground away.

The governor's servant had come, his once clean suit spattered with mud clear to his waist. The note had said that Governor Swann and Elizabeth had not fled to Santo Domingo, because Elizabeth had awakened with a fever. Norrington remembered still the awful wrenching of his gut as his fears for Elizabeth and her father were confirmed. He remembered the tramp through the rainy streets and the weary and worried look on the Governor's face as he talked of Elizabeth's condition.

He remembered too, discovering that the wealthy sector of Port Royal had been effectively shielded from the epidemic, and the realization of the source of Elizabeth's affliction. He remembered the burning anger and hatred he had felt towards the young blacksmith's apprentice who had narrowly escaped the disease's fevered death and now sat before him sharing these bitter memories.

Will was remembering the day he had met Elizabeth in the governor's ornate garden, as they had every week. Elizabeth would sneak out in the hot Caribbean afternoon while her governess and father napped, and play with Will. It was in the shelter of those hedges that Elizabeth and Will had shared their first kiss, a nervous experimental peck that left both of them in embarrassed giggles.

On that particular day Will had been feeling unwell, but had braved the rain to see Elizabeth. She had been standing under one of the house's ornate eaves, and she smiled when he arrived. They had cut their visit short, Will promising to return the following week.

He remembered the way he had returned to the smithy feeling staggeringly tired. He remembered waking, his head reeling and his skin burning. He remembered the appearance of the red welts and the agonizing sensation that caused him to claw at his skin until his fingernails were red with blood. He remembered the cough-ridden fitful sleep and the young boy's prayers for death to come and suffering to end.

He half remembered the call made by a rather inebriated naval Lieutenant, half remembered curses directed at him, the loud roars permeating his fevered stupor, the weight of his head as he attempted to raise it to meet his attacker, the overwhelming dizziness, waves of nausea, heat flaming through his body, then black.

He remembered the nightmares of Elizabeth dying, standing by her grave, calling out in vain, reaching for her as she sank away from him. He remembered waking several days later with the knowledge that Elizabeth was sick and the fear that she was dying. And he remembered the guilt and the anger at his visitor.

It would take a while for that anger to completely dissipate, and even now as Captain Turner relived his memories he felt the rage build inside him. The Admiral must have been reflecting on the same events, because he took a rather plentiful gulp of his wine and gently broke the silence.

"By the way, Turner. I want to apologize for my behavior towards you that night. I am still heartily ashamed of my conduct, and I hope you will let bygones be bygones and forgive me."

Will was softened by his words and the true shame in his voice. He relaxed and sighed shakily.

"Agreed. Besides, we were talking of your work."

Both men were glad to steer the conversation back into its drawing room boundaries.

"Yes. I am hoping to finish it before we reach…our destination."

He was unsure just where they were heading.

"We won't be going to the locker,"

Will answered the unasked question.

"It's hard to say just when we'll arrive."

As he said this, the young captain turned to pour out two glasses of a different, lighter wine, and to hide an expression from his guest. He turned around with a smile, handing one of the delicate crystal glasses to his companion. He raised his glass, and the other man did the same.

"To a smooth voyage, and a peaceful hereafter."

The men drank a few more glasses together before raising a final toast to His Majesty, and retiring to their beds. As Norrington made the walk across the coarse deck to his cabin, he looked up, and noticed something odd. The _Dutchman's_ weather-beaten sails, instead of hanging unfurled to catch the unearthly wind of the ethereal sea, were bound and tied to the spars, looking as they always did like sleeves of a dirty shirt.

The Admiral stood and wondered why the captain should be withholding any speed on his journey, then dismissed the notion, remembering that it was not his place to question the captain's decisions. He knew these waters better than James Norrington, who was only a dead spirit on his way to whatever lay beyond. With a sigh at the ever-returning thought of his lost life at sea, he ducked below and out of the dim ghostly moonlight.

-------------

_…I ducked out of the smithy and into the still relentless rain. _The Admiral lifted his quill and paused for a moment. He had included the events of that hateful night and the hours of drinking that had preceded it. Though still horribly ashamed, he was trying to leave a truthful explanation of his life and character. He didn't bother to read back over the section, as it was hard enough writing it down once. He continued:

_I spent a fitful night that night, tossing and turning as though I had the fever. Not only was I worried for Elizabeth's safety, but I hated to see what her illness was doing to Governor Swann. He was fraught with worry and he wasn't eating much. With the epidemic in his own household he was highly susceptible, meaning I could lose the two people I counted as family here in the Caribbean, and with the exception of my uncle, in the world. _

_Even worse, if Elizabeth were to die of the disease, her father would live, but as a broken man. In my dreams I saw his anguished face, saw him standing with Elizabeth on the dock where we had first met, saw again the weeping face of a man who had lost all he cared for, the despair and pain. Then my dream changed and I saw Elizabeth standing on the ramparts of Fort Port Royal in her blue silk gown, rain drenching her delicate curls and weighing down her dress. She stared at me with her deep and penetrating gaze, then fell backwards into the darkness. In my dream I reached for her and called out her name, waking myself. _

_As I drifted back into sleep, I heard the voices of the soldiers… "It's a punishment…a punishment…curse from above….Miller's dead…a punishment….like to die of it she was…my wife….like to die.…like to die…dark-skinned Satan….black magic.…like to die of it she was…full recovery…dark skinned magic…dark-skinned curse…dark skinned…" _

_Then I saw a face. A dark-skinned face with blackened teeth, leering at me with laughing eyes. I woke again, startled out of my half sleep, searching the room for the face that had just been so close to mine._

_I looked out the window and saw the beginnings of weak light breaking through the rain. I dressed tremulously and waited. I didn't know what to do. Something about that face beckoned to me, and I had an irrational and insatiable desire to find out whose it was. _

_I called for a servant and had him bring me breakfast. Eating, I discovered I was quite famished. I waited for the sun to rise, and then went straight to the fort. Working with the fort's clerk, I was able to muster all of the men named Fred. Lined up nervously in front of me, the men answered my questions until I was able to ascertain that Fred Crowthers, a Welshman, was married to a woman named Susan._

_I took Private Crowthers to the tavern, knowing that a drop of alcohol was the best thing to loosen a soldier's tongue, and hoping that we could speak without being overheard. The man followed me warily. He surely recognized me by now and had only to worry which of his small indiscretions he was being punished for. _

_I ordered him a drink which he took cautiously but drank expertly, watching me for any signs of accusation. I ordered a drink too, but did not drink it, the memory of the night before still fresh in my mind. When the man seemed settled in, I asked him._

"_Private Crowthers, is it true that your wife, Susan Crowthers was sick last year? Critically sick?"_

"_Aye sir, it is." _

_He spoke as though he were thinking through every word before he said it._

"_And it is also true that she made a full recovery?"_

_He nodded. I continued. _

"_Did your wife see any doctors during her illness?"_

"_That she did, sir, saw the local doctor, Doctor Simmons."_

"_That's all? She saw no other physicians or doctors of any kind?" _

_I fixed him with a hard gaze. The Welshman's eyes widened and he took a large gulp of his drink. Then, tentatively, he spoke._

"_No sir, that's not all. She saw another doctor, if you can call her that. But I weren't breaking no army rules I know of, and you got no right to bother my Susan. I know I'm just a common soldier but Fred Crowthers is an honest man, through and through. I got my rights, same as any man--" _

_He would have kept protesting had I not stopped him. I smiled to show I meant no harm and ordered his mug refilled._

"_It's ok Private, I'm not here to punish you." _

_I paused. _

"_I need to know all you can remember about this other doctor."_

_The man's large brow furrowed. _

"_She weren't like no doctor I've ever seen before. She had skin as black as night and teeth to match." _

_It was as if I had been punched in the chest. I felt an eerie chill creeping up my spine as I listened to the man describe the woman I had seen in my dream. When he was finished he leaned back and took a final swig from his now empty mug._

"_Where can I find her?" _

_He leaned forward again and studied my face closely. He was a good man, but curious. I could smell his rummy breath as he lowered his voice significantly._

"_Now Lieutenant, what would you be wantin' with the likes of her?"_

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	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

_I left the tavern, Crowthers's voice still ringing in my head. Now I had a mission, a way to save Elizabeth and the Governor form the sorrows of the epidemic. I was so absorbed in my thoughts that I hardly noticed that the rain had stopped. In its place was a hot wet blanket of air that made me wish for the rain again. _

_I moved at a determined pace, taking long strides that almost left me sitting in the deep mud. As I reached my quarters, the sun shined momentary bleak rays through the layer of grey clouds that still hovered threateningly over all of Port Royal. In a moment they were gone, blotted out once more. _

_I met my aide at the door. He did not look pleased. He silently took my damp things and directed me to the stack of papers that constituted my ignored morning's work. I worked swiftly, mechanically, urging the day to end so that I might be freed from the menial business of the navy, free to pursue my own endeavor. _

_Finally supper came. I refused the usual invitation to dine at the Admiral's table and instead had a cold supper in my quarters. As I ate, I prepared myself for the night ahead. _

_Crowthers had told me all he knew. _

_Of the pale-faced doctor who had pronounced such a solemn diagnosis for his Susan. Of his walk to the church late at night only to find the good Father Hibbitts absent. Of the cemetery behind the church where he had gone to pray over his brother's grave, in search of some guidance in his hopelessness. And of the dark voice followed by the dark face and the dark laughing eyes that had offered the answer to all of his prayers. _

_I pulled on my coat and, lantern in hand, splashed my way across the still wet streets to the church. The building stood cavernous and sinister in the sultry night. I walked behind, nearly tripping on the small fluted iron fence that enclosed the wealthy deceased of Port Royal. As I walked beyond to find the pauper's graves, the rain began again, a light sprinkling that made climbing over the ornate headstones even more difficult. _

_Finally I reached the rows of simple white crosses that marked the graves of men whose families could afford nothing more than to pay the priest for a few words and pay the diggers for their labor. I looked closely at the names crudely carved into the wooden crosses until I found Private Crowther's brother. I stopped, wholly unsure what to do. I didn't have much to go on, only the words of a drunken marine, and yet it was my only hope. _

_I don't know how long I waited, with the rain softly falling around me, gradually saturating my clothes. I told myself I was wasting my time. This random figure would not appear, it had only been chance that she had come to Crowthers the last time. Perhaps the man had imagined it, and his wife had made her recovery on her own. _

_Several times I told myself I would leave, but the memory of that face kept me rooted to the spot. The night wore on and I began to feel the hopelessness of my situation. Elizabeth would die, nothing I could do would save her, and then the Governor would follow her from grief. I would remain alone, silently sailing the seas, fulfilling my duty until that day when my corpse would be tipped into the green waves. _

_The familiar thought of the sea cheered and comforted me, and I drifted into a half-dream in which I was standing at a ship's wheel with Elizabeth's inquisitive eyes looking up at me. I could feel the salty sea breeze on my face. Aloft from the rigging a man called my name. _

"_Jeemes Nahrrington." _

_I awoke suddenly, and fell backwards at the sight of a familiar dark-skinned face. The face laughed, an eerie, wheezing sound._

_My heart thudded heavily inside my chest, so loudly that I felt sure it could be heard by this presence before me. My mouth felt dry. _

"_What do you want?" I stammered. _

"_Ah. That is fahr youw to ansawr. What is it youw want from me, Lieutenant?" _

_She drew the word out like a taunt, almost a challenge. _

"_I don't know what you mean," I replied, regaining my feet._

"_Coume now Lieutenant. I know youw coume looking fahr me." _

_She was circling me now, enjoying the power she had over me. _

"_I need your help." _

_She stopped and looked at me hard in the eyes, as if searching for something. I stared back, trying hard not to show the fear I felt. She began to hum, a low tuneless groan that made my hairs stand on end. _

_Finally she stopped. _

"_Your young friend is daey-ing."_

"_What? That can't be true." _

_I felt a crushing despair. Tears rushed to protest behind my eyes. I felt dizzy with anguish, as though I was suffocating with the pain. _

_She watched my reaction with a wooden expression, but her laughing eyes grew slarge and sad and danced with what I felt sure where tears in the lamplight. _

"_Please," I begged, "help me."_

_She was silent. She seemed to be considering whether she should indeed give me aid. Then, slowly, she reached into the folds of her skirt and produced a small vial full of dark liquid. _

"_Give this to the girl. She will recover within three deeys."_

_I took the vial from her outstretched hand. _

"_Thank you."_

"_Yahr love does youw credit, Jeemes Nahrrington. Soumedeey youw will be rewahded fahr the steadfastnaess of your 'eart." _

_She turned to go._

"_Wait--" _

_She looked back at me over her ebony shoulder. _

"_How do I know you speak the truth? How do I know I can trust you?"_

_She grinned her broad, laughing grin. _

"_Youw don't."_

"_Why are you doing this?"_

_She became serious, and the sad look returned to her eyes. _

"_I toow know what it is to feel love." _

_At this, her hand moved to an unseen object at her chest. She took a few more steps out of the lamplight, and then she was gone, swallowed by the black night. _

_I ran through the dark streets, slipping and sliding, clutching the small bottle to me. When I reached the governor's mansion I hammered on the large wooden door until a bleary-eyed servant answered. The governor was behind him, looking distraught. _

"_James! What on earth?" _

_I held out the vial to him, unable to explain. He could tell by the grave look on my face that I was as upset as he was. We stood in silence, looking at each other for a moment. Then, unexpectedly, the Governor collapsed into my arms, weeping like a little boy. The servant and I managed to get him to a chair where he continued to give vent to his emotions. _

_After a few minutes, he managed to get out, _

"_She's dying, James. There's nothing I can do. She's so weak--" _

_He choked up again. _

_At last I spoke. _

"_She doesn't have to die." _

_I didn't know how to explain what I'd done, what I knew. _

"_Take this. It's a special medicine. It will cure her." _

_He looked at me cautiously. He dared not hope only to see those hopes dashed. _

"_Trust me," I urged._

_He took the vial, and the servant the Governor and I climbed the steps to Elizabeth's chamber. I stood at the door as father and servant entered, gently waking Elizabeth, and bidding her drink the tonic. _

_She did so painstakingly slowly, as though every movement caused her great pain. I watched her silhouette in the dim light, feeling a weight remove itself from my chest as she swallowed spoonful after spoonful. I thought about the dark woman's words, and I was struck by the truth of her prophetic speech. I did love this girl. Just how much, I would soon discover._

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	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

_Soon after Elizabeth's recovery, I was taking tea with the Governor when I got the news that England was once again at war. I was to report to the docks immediately, to oversee the fitting out of my assigned ship, The Dauntless. _

_It would be almost three years before I returned to Port Royal. In that time I fought many battles, and took much in the way of prizes. I thought often of Elizabeth and Governor Swann while I was away. It was only once I was out on the open sea that I realized how much I cared for them. _

_At the end of my voyage I had amassed a small fortune and was feeling as though I had finally begun to prove my worth as a seaman. I even had a short taste of command, as Captain Bellard was stabbed in the shoulder off the coast of Portugal and died of infection shortly afterwards. I sailed into Port Royal as Captain of the Dauntless._

_I was so excited to see Elizabeth and the Governor that I sent my aide ahead to my quarters with my things and made my way straight to the large mansion on the hill. I was in a fine mood. It had been a first-rate voyage, the Caribbean sun was shining, and I was coming to visit family. _

_Because of the weather, I decided to approach the house through the garden and enjoy its cool shade and rippling fountain. As I neared the austere hedges that marked the boundaries of the garden, I heard a familiar laugh accompanied by a male voice. I stopped involuntarily and listened._

"_No, left foot first. Then you take my hand and we circle counter-clockwise for four counts. And don't lunge into your steps as though you were fencing." _

_More laughter. _

"_Oh, Will, you're hopeless. How will I ever get you ready for my ball next month?"_

"_I can't help it. I haven't had dancing masters. I've been working. Besides, it's hot."_

_Elizabeth's discerning sigh. _

"_Well, I suppose we should take a break."_

"_I just won't dance. No one will mind." _

_A pause. _

"_I'm not sure why you invited me anyway. I feel stifled sitting there with all of those lords and ladies. I'd much rather be here in the garden with you."_

"_Will--you know you mustn't talk like that. We shouldn't even be here now."_

"_Why not? I like spending time with you. I don't care what--"_

"_Well I do." _

_There was a tense silence. When she spoke, her voice was suddenly cool and coiffured. _

"_Mr. Turner. I think perhaps you had better go. I look forward to seeing you at my party."_

_The crunching of footsteps became louder and I drew into the shadows as young Will Turner stormed past. As soon as he was out of sight, I stepped into the garden, hoping Elizabeth would still be there. _

_The garden was empty, and so I continued on to the front door to pay my call. Governor Swann received me out on his shady porch, where I found him sipping a cool glass of a sweet and tangy drink that made me feel as though I had never left. He jumped up when I entered, clasping my hand enthusiastically._

"_James! My God how I've missed you! How brown you look! Ah, but I've read my fair share about your adventures. Captain Bellard was high in his praise of you before he died." _

_This sobered us._

"_Yes. It was a nasty wound. There was not much the surgeon could do." _

_I took a sip of my drink. The Caribbean was lovely this time of year, and despite the heat there was a small breeze that stirred the palm trees that framed the bluest sky. I couldn't help but feel at peace. _

"_Ah-but we should be talking of happy things! You are come back to us again! And a Captain too!"_

_I beamed, pleased. _

"_I am no Captain just yet. I may have steered the Dauntless into Port Royal, but as soon as a Post Captain can be found, I shall be a lowly Lieutenant once more."_

_He chuckled. _

"_Oh but you soon will be. You are going places my boy, and we both know it. Why with your determination you could end up an Admiral someday."_

_My ambition tingled, and yet I merely laughed and rose a toast. _

"_To the future, both yours and mine. May they be full of good fortune." _

_We drank._

_When we had finished I asked after Elizabeth. He frowned a little._

"_She spent too much time out in the sun and has a headache. She is lying up in her room. She asked me to make her excuses."_

_He paused then looked appraisingly at me before adding, _

"_She's changed a lot since you've been away. She's sixteen now, and quite the beauty. She reminds me of her mother more and more everyday. And her temper has certainly developed into that of a young lady's." _

_I smiled, listening, thinking that that temper had always been there. _

"_And now Lady Barclay, having married off her own daughter to that Branson fellow, has nothing to do but try to marry mine off! She insists that Elizabeth be brought out, that she is of age, and has been coaching her in what she calls 'the social graces'--all of the tricks and traps to snag a wealthy husband."_

_Clearly he was not pleased with this training. _

"_Elizabeth is a sensible girl," I reassured him. "She will not lower herself to that kind of mischief."_

"_I'm sure you are right. Some days she must be forced to go to her lessons with Lady Barclay. I do not think she enjoys them."_

"_Then why continue them?"_

_He sighed. _

"_Elizabeth's mother died when she was so young. There are things she can gain from having a woman around at this time of life. Things I can't teach her. I know I should have remarried long ago, that it was selfish of me to leave her without a mother for so long. But now she is a young woman and it is too late."_

_I felt an unpleasant pang thinking about Elizabeth being married to any of the pink-faced young fops that haunted Port Royal or else the Lords and Dukes so old that they could be her father. I grimaced. _

"_Does Lady Barclay have anyone in particular in mind?"_

"_I think she is waiting to see who takes an interest. But she will most certainly go for money." _

_He sighed heavily. _

"_She will marry off my little girl, and then where will I be? Her mother wasn't married until nineteen. Surely Elizabeth can wait a few years…"_

_I did my best to assuage his worries, and soon we were chatting of other things. I left the house in good spirits, and in possession of an invitation to Elizabeth's ball. _

_----------------_

_It seemed I was not to see Elizabeth before the ball. I dined with the Governor a few times, yet every time Elizabeth was dining with Lady Barclay and what must surely be every eligible bachelor in Port Royal. I received several invitations from the Admiral, whose son Geoffrey was two and a half years old, and quite doted upon by his mama. The business of finding a Post Captain for the Dauntless was uncommonly slow, and though there were several young Lieutenants in Port Royal, I somehow felt that the governor was using all of his influence to push the Admiral in my direction._

_Finally, the night of the ball came. As I dressed, I felt unusually nervous, and I couldn't wait to see Elizabeth again. The last time I had seen her she still had freckles. Now, the governor assured me she would be the belle of the ball. _

_Standing in the Governor's large ballroom I surveyed the company. Just as I had suspected, Lady Barclay had filled the room with every single man between seventeen and eighty. Would Elizabeth remember an old friend like me? Would I even get to see her amid this crowd of suitors? _

_I decided to stop worrying and try to socialize. I learned that Miss Latimer had been married in my absence to a Lord Scott, and had been skirted off to Dorset to live in a dusty old Abbey. Her mama could not get enough of the match, and as I was one of the few in Port Royal who had not heard of it, she felt she must acquaint me with all the particulars, down to the fine lace His Lordship had bought her to put on her petticoats. I was sipping wine and desperately searching for an escape, when a servant announced _

"_Governor Swann, Lady Barclay and Miss Swann." _

_The room turned to look at the party as they entered the room. As my eyes rested upon Elizabeth, I suddenly felt the breath go out of me. I watched her wide-eyed, unabashedly entranced. _

_It was as though I had never seen her before. There was under her creamy white skin a hint of the young girl I had once known, but this angel was not what I had expected. Her appraising eyes had grown large and beguiling, yet I felt sure they had not lost their ability to cut me to the very core. _

_Lady Barclay was introducing her to Lord Fontleigh, and as she dipped into a graceful curtsy, her mouth broke into a smile that melted my heart. As she rose, I let myself breathe again, aware that my heart was beating at an erratic rate. I forced myself to turn away, on the pretense of getting another glass of wine, but once I had it, I immediately turned to watch her again. I moved to a corner from which I could observe her without being pestered by more Mrs. Latimers. _

_Elizabeth chatted with gentleman after gentleman, and I noted the soft curve of her neck, the way her eyes lit up with a joke, the melodic ring of her laughter. She was not stirred by most of the candidates Lady Barclay had compiled; I knew her well enough to notice her party manners at work, but there were a few candidates that piqued her interest, and every time she focused her attentive gaze on a man I automatically hated him, irrationally resolving never to speak to the man again. _

_I was behaving like a fool and I knew it, but I didn't care. The music began, and Elizabeth took the floor with the proud and brooding Mr. Dandridge. I watched her with a few more partners, and finally decided I must leave my hiding place and be sociable. _

_"Captain Norrington. Where have you been all evening?"_

_It was Lady Barclay who spoke. _

"_I heard you were back in Port Royal. Why have I not seen you at Lady Harrington's dinners?" _

_I tried to make a reply, but before I could say anything, she was leading me over to a fiery-haired young lady in a pale pink gown. _

"_This is Miss Robertson."_

_I bowed, and before I knew it we were dancing together. Ms. Robertson was not of a disagreeable character, but she was, as many girls her age, made up of all of the accomplishments that were meant to get her a husband, and was good for little else. I next danced with a Miss Berteaux, who had, if not remarkable good looks, a pretty face, soft features and striking blue eyes. Her conversation was quite amusing, and I found the dance even enjoyable. She made it clear to me that she was not trying to ensnare me as a husband, and her frankness, while shocking, put me at ease. Next she was asked to dance by a man about my age, a Mr. Paradis, who, by the look of things, was the young man she had set her sights on. I stood alone, seeking out Elizabeth in the crowd. I found Governor Swann first, and went over to speak with him. _

"_James, there you are. Are you enjoying the party?"_

"_Oh yes." _

"_I saw you dancing with Miss Berteaux. You seemed quite interested in what she had to say." _

_He was angling for a declaration._

"_We were talking of poetry. She is indeed a most amusing partner." _

_That was all I was going to say. The older man eyed me._

"_Indeed." He changed the subject. "Elizabeth looks well tonight, does she not?"_

_I blushed. "Yes. She does indeed." _

_I watched her dance, trying to control my countenance which I knew the governor was studying carefully. The dance ended, and he brought Elizabeth over. Her closeness only made her more enchanting. She bowed._

"_Captain Norrington. So good to see you again."_

_Her party manners. I was crestfallen. And yet she was so beautiful. _

"_Captain, why don't you dance with my daughter. She is old enough now, I will permit it." _

_The governor chuckled good naturedly. Both Elizabeth and I blushed. I bowed._

"_It would do me great pleasure." _

_She took my hand and we took our places in the set. _

_As we moved through the dance, I felt dizzy, giddy, and proud. I burned at the feeling of her waist beneath my touch, her delicate fingers in mine, her eyes flashing so close to me. We talked, of that I am sure, but I don't recall what we said. I could only remark on the way her lips curved when she talked, her soft voice, her dazzling smile._

_I left the party hours later, my head and my heart so full of Elizabeth. She was a dream of beauty. Yet my sense told me that there must be more to her than just her looks. I thought of the precocious young girl she had once been, and my lightheadedness diminished, replaced by an internal ache. The realization that I was falling truly, and deeply in love._

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Author's note: Happy Friday! Another chapter for you. I'm getting to the harder part now, which is where I write on what happens in the movies. This will be interesting, as Norrington is made to seem quite a fool in the first movie, and hardly as competent as he should be for such a young Commodore. So bear with me, and stay tuned.


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

Admiral Norrington stretched. He rubbed his eyes, quite sore from writing in the cabin's meager light. He wondered what time it was.

Pulling out his pocket watch he was shocked to find that he had written through the night and into the afternoon. Thinking how strange it was that time still existed or even mattered in this surreal half-life, he dressed and climbed up on deck. It was a glorious day, with a sky sparkling blue and cloudless. He inhaled the salty sea air, and closed his eyes to feel the cool sea breeze awaken his skin, smiling almost unconsciously. He felt the gentle rise and fall of the deck under his feet, and simultaneously felt his heart lift as it always did when in the middle of a voyage.

Opening his eyes, he looked out across the water. He felt the tranquility of a seaman, his senses heightening at the sound of the waves shushing before the prow of the ship, those waves that could speed a man on to glory or plunge him into the cold, dark, crushing depths. Every seaman knew that the sea was a fickle seductress, and yet all were inexorably drawn to her.

He was so lost in his musings that the Admiral did not hear the clomp of footsteps moving towards him from behind. Will looked at the man silently for a moment. Though his companion's strongly featured face and drawn mouth gave away nothing, his eyes revealed the intensity of his thoughts.

"Good afternoon, Admiral."

The man nodded, his eyes still fixed on the ocean. "Captain."

"You have been busy."

"Yes."

Will fell silent again, cursing his awkwardness. Why was it so hard for him to speak to the man? And yet over these past few days they had talked with civility, and even, Will thought, with some degree of warmth. For some reason there was still a tension that prevented a friendship between the two men. No matter how frank they had been, or what secrets they had revealed, there was no true intimacy.

Will found, standing here beside the man in this place so separated from life and all of its associations, that he truly longed for that kind of a connection with James Norrington. They had never understood each other in life, but they both had changed a great deal since their last earthly encounter. He knew he respected the Admiral; his ability and integrity were indisputable; and he had loved Elizabeth. Somehow that made him seem so much more honorable.

What was more, Elizabeth had cared for him and seen the goodness in him. He looked sideways at the older man, thinking that Elizabeth had once been engaged to him. Though it gave him a momentary pang of jealousy to think of it, he knew that if she had married him, that James Norrington would have done everything he could to make her happy and would always honor her spirited ways.

"What fine weather we have had for our voyage. No choppy waters to upset your pen."

Will remarked lamely, feeling like a simpering schoolgirl. What next--an inquiry after the man's health?

"Yes. I have rarely seen a sky so blue. Or so calm a sea. But I suppose that comes from being, as we are, beyond ordinary waters."

"If the weather holds up as it does, we should reach our destination at the end of the month."

For the first time Norrington took his eyes from the glittering waves. He looked suddenly sad, coupled with that stern resignation that was bred from years of navy life. When he spoke, his voice was tired and throaty.

"What is it like? Our…destination?"

Will looked at him, his brow furrowed in the discerning look that he often wore. He leaned forward onto the ship's gnarled railing and looked to the horizon.

"I only know what they tell me. It is different for everyone, so they say. You lose all certainty of who you are or were, almost like a constant dream where nothing is ever as it should be. You will retain some memories, but in blurred snatches, as though you were a very small child again." His expression was sour. "It is a listless existence." He gave a sardonic smile. "And that is what awaits those who led a _good _life."

The Admiral frowned, his dark countenance becoming even more severe, if it was possible.

"It will seem unnatural, living without the sea."

His voice was filled with emotion, but at the same time controlled and deliberate. It struck Will that not only was the sea important to Admiral Norrington, but it was the only constant in his life. Deprived of everything he cared for--Elizabeth, his career, his life--he still had, as he had always had, the sea. Just as he himself had the love of his dearest Elizabeth.

Neither man spoke again, nor moved from their spot, as the ethereal sun sank to crown the green waves with tiny golden diadems of dazzling light, and the ship cut its steady path through the majestic waves.

-----------------------

Later, back in his cabin, James faced his work again.

_I awoke the next morning instilled with an overwhelming sense of well-being. I can still recall how bright everything looked. My manservant Mozart had flung open the two windows in my room and brilliant Caribbean sunshine was streaming through them, setting aglow the white-washed walls, the creamy bed sheets, the porcelain pot of coffee the man had brought in. _

_Mozart himself, who came bustling in muttering in a heavily accented English, did not exactly glow, but the sun gave his caramel skin a luster that it often lacked. He told me gruffly the time. It was later than I usually slept, but not by much. Despite the late hours of the ball I felt refreshed, and ready to take on the day. I rose and dressed carefully, selecting my finest waistcoat, commissioned upon my return with some of the Spanish coins I had taken, to make its debut today. A well-cut blue coat, a frothy cravat and ivory breeches finished off the outfit. _

_As he brushed me off before the mirror, I could tell Mozart was pleased. The French in him gave him a fashionable eye, and he took great pride in my appearance, as it was a reflection of his work. Today I had reasons for looking my best. I walked out into my sitting room, waving away my aide, eschewing my work for a morning of sociability. Ignoring the man's sotto voce protests, I took up my hat, fixed it carefully upon my head, and then stepped out into the Caribbean sunshine._

_I was looking my best, even strutting a little with the elation I felt, and I could see that my appearance was getting attention. As I strode though the streets, giving a cheery good morning to acquaintances, I noticed the smiles on the women were broader, and the girls' cheeks redder than usual. I was pleased with the effect, but today I only cared for one opinion. _

_I made my way past Merton Confectionary and the milliner's to the florist's shop. The florist was a man I liked, an Irishman who had been traveling on a merchant ship that was captured by pirates and then recaptured by the British Navy a few days later. He had then come to settle in Port Royal, and with the profusion of merchants, decided to make use of his natural ability with flowers, and now sold to the best families in the town, and lived quite comfortably. He was a middle-aged man, with a grin that went all the way up to his eyebrows and an ebullient Irish optimism. He whistled a lively tune as he assembled the bouquet I had requested, and handed it over with a cheery, _

"_There ya are my lad. An' if she don't fall straight into your arms at the sight of em' , then you'll have to take it up with Aphrodite. I've done all I can do." _

_His hearty chuckle ushered me on my way, as I tried in vain to imagine Elizabeth falling into the arms of any man, flowers or no. _

_When I reached the Governor's mansion, I found that I was not the first to pay my respects to Elizabeth that morning. Several bouquets of fresh flowers sat about the drawing room, with Elizabeth the most lovely blossom of them all. She looked serene, her heavily lidded eyes flashing in warm appreciation of my appearance--causing my heart to constrict momentarily. Then she averted her eyes, and I bowed my hello and took a seat opposite her. Lady Barclay, who I had not noticed in the room; my eyes were only for Elizabeth; rushed forward to whisk the flowers out of my hand and into a waiting vase. Elizabeth thanked me graciously. _

"_How kind of you to pay us a visit, Captain. I trust you are feeling well?" Lady Barclay chirruped, floating down beside Elizabeth._

"_Oh, very well indeed, m'am. May I compliment you on an excellent party last night."_

_She let out a tittering laugh. _

"_Why thank you Captain, that is most kind of you."_

_I addressed Elizabeth, who was gazing out of the window. Was she bored? _

"_And Miss Swann, how do you find yourself this morning after your first ball?" _

_I wanted to tell her that she looked radiant, her creamy gown bathed in soft sunlight, and her delicate fan fluttering at her neckline._

"_Well, thank you, Captain." _

_She fell silent, and she and Lady Barclay exchanged a look before she added dutifully,_

"_You are a fine dancer. I have rarely had the pleasure of seeing you dance."_

"_Well, I have little occasion for dancing when I'm at sea, but this last voyage, we came across a merchant ship with several female passengers, and with the waters still enough, we cleared the deck and held a dance."_

_Her eyes lit up for the first time. _

"_You mean you danced right on the deck of the ship? How fascinating. How did you know you would not be attacked by pi--your enemies?" _

_She had been about to say pirates, but Lady Barclay had shot her a quelling look. _

"_We weren't. It certainly made our steps livelier, knowing that at any moment we could be fired upon." _

_Elizabeth looked entranced. Lady Barclay looked scandalized. _

"_We kept a sharp lookout, you may be sure m'am," I reassured her._

_We talked more of seafaring life, which seemed to interest Elizabeth just as much as it had when she was a girl. Lady Barclay sat, clucking like a hen, with constant comments about how it was not seemly for a young lady to talk of such things with a gentleman. She kept a close eye on the ornate clock over the mantelpiece, and when fifteen minutes were up she seemed only too eager to shoo me out. As the doors to the drawing room were shut behind me, and a red-haired man of about twenty was shown in, I heard my name called from the top of the stairs. _

"_James! Well, you're looking quite well this morning if I may say so. Come to join the throng of admirers come vying for my daughter, eh?" _

_He seemed vastly amused. _

"_The father, you see, has been ousted from these proceedings, doomed to languish upstairs alone."_

_I was pleased to see him. _

"_Good morning Governor."_

"_Come and have a drink with me. I am quite by myself this morning, and I could do with some company." _

_I willingly obliged. When we were both settled with a glass of wine, the Governor continued. _

"_So, how did you make out in there? Are you on the list of suitables?"_

_I laughed a little. _

"_I think not. I don't think Lady Barclay is very pleased with me. I fear it will be hard for me to--see Elizabeth." _

_It was the first acknowledgement of my affection for her, and I felt suddenly shy in front of her father. He smiled knowingly._

"_So it's as I suspected is it? Well, James, you know I'll be rooting for you. Nothing could make me happier, and I feel confident that you will make her a good husband."_

_He paused, thoughtfully. _

"_We'll see what we can do about Lady Barclay."_

"_Thank you, sir." _

_I was relieved. Something in me feared he would be angry with me._

"_Only promise me one thing, James. If you become engaged, would you wait a year or two, before you marry? I know it seems silly, but I can't bear with her being married so soon."_

"_Of course. But don't engage us yet. I haven't even told her how I feel." _

_He smiled at that, and raised a toast to my success._

_His worries would be unnecessary, for, try as she might, Lady Barclay could not persuade Elizabeth to accept any of the offers for her hand that she received. With the help of the Governor I saw Elizabeth often, and I could see that she was growing to like me, if not filled with the passion that I felt for her. Every day I spent with her I grew to love her more deeply, and to feel more and more strongly that I wanted to build my future with her. Her quick wit, straightforward manner and open and easy personality took hold of my heart, and her sense of adventure matched mine. _

_On one topic we did not agree however, and that was piracy. While I saw pirates as dissolute, violent, murderers; she had a far more romantic view of the blackguards, no doubt fostered by a deal too much fiction and literary nonsense. _

_It seemed I had spent far longer than three months with Elizabeth when I was forced to leave her again. Admiral Braithwaite had finally decided upon me as Post Captain of the Dauntless, and a Post Captain could not spend his time courting pretty young misses. I was pleased and proud, but at the same time sorry that I had to leave Elizabeth. I was worried that she would be married when I returned, but I knew that the Governor would do all he could for my case, and hoped for the best. Many times during my voyage I regretted not proposing to Elizabeth the day I got my orders, but I didn't yet feel worthy of her, and I hoped that as an experienced captain I would seem more suitable as a husband in her, and Lady Barclay's, eyes. Something in me foolishly hoped that the old adage would prove true, and that my absence would make Elizabeth realize the depth of her feelings for me. _

_Elizabeth and her father came to the dock to see me on my way, and as the Dauntless slipped out of the harbor, I watched Elizabeth's slender form and smiling face shrink into the distance before turning to face the open sea._

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Author's Note: Hey guys! Sorry that I haven't updated sooner. I had hoped to post again on Friday, but work was crazy busy and this weekend my house was overrun by a bunch of screaming 8th graders. In the end I have had to shut myself up in my room until I got a chapter banged out. I was unsure how to proceed, so when in doubt, write a Will/Norrington scene! Yay! I hope to update again soon, but this weekend is graduation weekend so no promises.

On another note, I would like to apologize for writing Will such flowery dialogue. I can't seem to help it, but I am fully aware that it is rather uncharacteristic. And for any other discontinuity in this chapter by chapter work, I do hereby apologize.


	10. Chapter 9

Authors Note: With regard to timeline, in the last chapter Elizabeth has just turned 16, and Norrington, having received his promotion to Post Captain, has set sail. In the script Elizabeth is stated as being 20 when the Commodore proposes to her, and while some other canon may have her at about 17 or 18 (indeed Knightley was 17 at the time of CotBP), I am choosing to go along with the timeline in the script.

**Chapter Nine**

_It was quite fulfilling, if perhaps a bit taxing, to have a whole ship under one's command. The crew of the Dauntless were of the first rate sort, veterans of the sea who knew what they were about. As her captain I piloted the man of war to further glory, adding a few more dents to the hull and more blood to stain its crude deck. We captured a former frigate, 64 guns, the Amie Marie, a corsair ship under the command of a French gentleman named Emile Vallette. M. Vallette was exceptionally fond of dueling, and so overly confident in his abilities with the blade, that he would often challenge the captain of an enemy ship to a formal duel rather than waste time and gunpowder on a battle. He seemed a very unlikely privateer, was clearly of genteel origins and had not much taste for the bloodshed his profession required. So it was that I was able to best him at swords and capture his ship without any of the carnage and smoke as was usual. _

_There was a female passenger on board the Amie Marie, an elegantly dressed Austrian miss with large, dark eyes that reminded me so of Elizabeth's soft brown ones. They sailed with us until we reached the channel, and then we set them afloat in a longboat with some provisions. Not long afterwards, I learned they had reached France safely, only for M. Vallette to be killed in another duel. _

_The mademoiselle was, I supposed, his gilded mistress, and a rather inconstant one at that. She often attempted to attract my favor, but her coquetries only made me ache to be with Elizabeth. Having her on board reminded me of all of those things that made Elizabeth so enchanting; the slender form and graceful gait of a woman, the tiny hairs at the nape of her neck, the stray hairs about her face that flapped in the sea breeze. In private, I indulged in thoughts of Elizabeth, my dreams infused with an unexpected and intense desire, and my waking filled with daydreams of our future together. _

_There were also worries. Sometimes I felt sure I would find Elizabeth married upon my return. Perhaps she would even have kids. In my darker moods I pictured calling upon her when I returned to Port Royal, only to have her husband standing nearby and her children surrounding her feet. I dismissed these fears by writing to the governor to assure myself of her continuing unmarried state. The months between letters were agonizing, every day reminding me of my missed chance with Elizabeth. I promised myself that I couldn't wait any longer, and that as soon as I returned to Port Royal I would waste no time in asking her to be mine, worthy or not._

_The Dauntless took 25 ships in all, most of them not at all as grand as the Amie Marie, sunk 22, and brought in over 10,000 pounds worth of prize money. When I once again beheld the weathered battlements of Fort Port Royal, four years had passed. I had been in Port Royal for a few days when the Governor's invitation had arrived, scarcely able to call upon the man, consumed with business and engaged to dine with the Admiral and my fellow officers every night. Admiral Braithwaite had a guest staying with him from England, a Mr. Graham with connections among the heads of His Majesty's naval offices there. While I enjoyed the talk of all things naval, the company, and the praise they kept throwing my way, I longed to be able to dine at the Governor's table, where I was sure to see Elizabeth. While on my voyage I had seen and experienced so many new and terrible things that I almost felt that I didn't belong in such a calm, domestic setting anymore, but the moment I saw Elizabeth any notions of that sort swiftly vanished. _

_It was at a dinner party at the Governor's. She was there, along with a few other personal friends of her father's. As I entered the drawing room, there sat the ever vigilant Lady Barclay, looking as though she had not stirred an inch from her perch in that same drawing room four years ago. Elizabeth was there, and I nearly gaped at her, rejoicing in the detail of her, on the other side of the room and yet so near to me, so much closer than the loveliness that had lived in my memory for those four long years. I realized how wrong I had been about her. My mind's eye could never capture the lively twinkle in her eye, the way her curls bounced across her forehead when she turned, the way her hands curved around her fan. The image that had captivated my heart and sustained me these four years was just a pale reflection of the life and beauty of this girl I saw before me. I found I could not help but notice her bosom, fuller and more exposed than when I had seen her last, and fashionably powdered so that it matched her porcelain complexion, through which her natural rosiness was trying its hardest to peek. I was arrested by other acquaintances before dinner, and as we moved into the dining room, my efforts to secure a seat near her were thwarted by Lady Barclay on one side, and a corpulent colleague of Governor Swann, a Mr. Wythe, on the other. As we dined, I watched her, marveling at her intelligent conversation and decided opinions. The youthful wisdom and certainty of twenty made her more ravishing than her sixteen-year-old self, and as I listened to her opinions against beating servants, my heart warmed to her sense of justice and her kindness and compassion. _

_The interval between dessert and the time when we could rejoin the ladies seemed to last forever, and when the host had waved a servant away with an empty decanter, I sprang out of my seat and made my way to the drawing room to situate myself on a fashionable French canapé, right next to Elizabeth._

"_May I say how well you are looking tonight, Miss Swann." She smiled prettily._

"_Thank you, Captain. I am very glad to see you returned so safely." I was heartened by the warmth in her voice._

"_I am touched by your concern." I looked at her, my heart surely in my eyes. "I have often thought of my friends here in Port Royal and wished to return all the sooner." _

_She lowered her eyes and fluttered her fan. "I thought every sailor's heart belonged to the sea."_

"_In his younger years, when he seeks adventure and the glory that battle brings, the sea seems a seaman's whole world. But when he gets older, he begins to realize his need for a different kind of relationship, one that the sea and his shipmates cannot provide." My directness had made her uneasy. She was silent. I tried in vain to remove the emotion from my voice as a added, "That is why I am so very honored that you should count me among your friends." _

_She smiled at me, affectionately. "And I you, Captain Norrington."_

_I couldn't help myself. "Miss Swann--Elizabeth, may I call upon you tomorrow? I thought perhaps--that is, I have been so long on board ship and I have just acquired a fine mount. Should you perhaps like to join me in a ride tomorrow afternoon?" Before she could respond, Lady Barclay's voice rang out across the room. _

"_What are you talking of there, Captain? You seem very involved in your conversation." I was saved the awkwardness of a response as she continued on to another subject. "Elizabeth, have you overheated? You look quite flushed. I hope you have not had too much wine at dinner?"_

_Elizabeth smiled at me conspiratorially. "No m'am. I'm quite well, thank you." She was then entreated to play, and floated over to the pianoforte. _

_I moved closer so that I might better enjoy her performance. She played as well as she danced, without the precision of a true master, but with a whole-heartedness that was endearing. Lady Barclay's shrill whisper broke into my thoughts. _

"…_but you know, I don't know what the girl is about. I've tried and tried to get her a husband but she simply will not accept any of the men I put in her way. It has been four years since her come-out, and still not even so much as an engagement. Not that she hasn't been asked enough times. Her beauty keeps them coming, but the men are beginning to think there is something wrong with her, and no man likes being rejected. Lord Fontleigh, you know, tried for her twice, but she'd not have him! I am about to wash my hands of the girl. I've told Governor Swann to send her to London for the season, where she'd be sure to find some man to touch her heart, but he won't hear of it." _

_Her companion, Mrs. Wythe by the sound of it, chimed in. "What about the captain?" I felt two pairs of eyes at my back. "She seems to be interested, and he is obviously besotted. And the way they were talking earlier, so cozy and intimate. How do you know she hasn't already given him her heart?" _

_The piece ended and gloved hands clapped as Elizabeth moved to sit down. I remained where I was, bristling. What right did these women have to speak of Elizabeth in such a way? If she did not wish to marry, it was not their place to criticize. Something wrong with her, indeed! They did not realize that Elizabeth must marry for love. Her nature was far too passionate to marry merely to increase her fortune. And what business of theirs was it if he spoke to Elizabeth? He was an old friend, it was perfectly respectable. _

"_James? Are you quite well? You are looking very severe." His last words were said as warning, for there were several wagging tongues around. I forced my expression to soften._

"_Governor Swann. May I compliment you on Elizabeth's playing. Truly accomplished." He grunted amusedly at my dutiful remarks before steering me to a chair. _

_--_

_As I waited in the front hall for my horse to be brought round from the stables, Lady Barclay approached me. "Captain Norrington. I hope you will do Miss Swann and I the honor of calling upon us here tomorrow afternoon? We should so much like to see you now you are returned to Port Royal." I was too surprised to be annoyed by her maneuvering. I simply bowed and said "Your servant, m'am." _

_Then a footman informed me that my horse was just outside, and I called a goodnight to where Elizabeth and her father stood goodby-ing their guests before donning my hat and stepping outside._

_..._

Author's Note: Ok, so by rights I ought to give more detail to James's four years at sea, but I'm sure you're more interested in this part. Perhaps someday I will go back and write those four years, but for now you'll have to be content with what's here. For those of you eager to jump into canon, we are on the brink of Captain Norrington becoming Commodore Norrington, so next chapter should do it.


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

_I called at the Governor's as early as was permissible the next morning. I was slightly miffed at Lady Barclay's obvious scheming, but glad that it meant I could be with Elizabeth. After a few minutes of well-bred discussion in the drawing room, Lady Barclay practically shoved us onto our horses and out into the Jamaican countryside. _

_The day was warm, and the shady greenness of the inland inviting, and Elizabeth and I rode farther than we had intended. Lady Barclay had cleverly sent a servant along with a picnic lunch, so that we might not have to return to dine, thus ending our solitude. Though I ought to be aggravated at such deviousness, as I watched the servant spreading out a blanket under the shade of the trees, I praised Lady Barclay for helping to prolong the precious hours I could spend with Elizabeth. I walked to where Elizabeth stood, nuzzling her smoky grey mare. Losing myself in the exhilaration of her nearness, I wanted to gently slide my arms around her slender waist, burying my face in her fragrant hair, kissing the gentle curve of her exquisite neck; but instead I reached out a hand and placed it on her arm, causing her to turn. I was suddenly struck by the inquisitive look on her face, the way the sunlight was igniting her hair, her half smile. Softly, I managed to get out "Lunch is served."_

_Elizabeth ate hungrily, and rather more, I suspect, than she would have were Lady Barclay watching over her. Once we had finished, she stretched out on the blanket, clearly enjoying the freedom of the impropriety. I remained sitting in my shirtsleeves, unable to ignore the way the position accented her excellent figure as she gazed up at the blueness of the midday sky. There was a kind of enchanted feeling to the afternoon, one I never wanted to end. She closed her eyes, a smile playing on her lips, and I struggled against the urge to lie down beside her, so that I might be gazing deep into those lovely eyes when she opened them again. Instead, I looked out at the town, and listened to the breeze rustling through the branches of the trees. On the horizon, a ship's white sails puffed themselves out, as if to announce her coming. _

"_Ship coming in," I said, almost to myself. Elizabeth's eyes opened._

"_What kind of ship?" She asked it lazily, stretching an arm out to reach the grass at the edge of the blanket. _

"_A frigate, by the number of guns. Probably the Julietta."_

"_Julietta. That's Spanish isn't it?" She asked, half sitting up, her eyes suddenly awake and shining with interest._

"_Yes, but don't worry, it's one of ours. We captured her last year." She seemed a bit disappointed, but she was doing her best to conceal it as she laid back down. _

"_Oh. Why haven't you renamed her then?" Underneath her inquiry there was the slightest hint of blame. I chose to ignore it, answering calmly._

"_Sometimes we do. It depends upon the Captain. Some consider it bad luck." I paused, then added. "I daresay you were hoping for a pirate attack. Tell me, do you still harbor such foolish ideas about pirates?" This had come out with more violence than I had intended. She looked at me, surprised at my sudden fervor, then said defiantly,_

"_Yes, Captain, I do." I sighed. We had been getting on so well. I had suddenly spoiled the afternoon. Then, unexpectedly, she spoke. _

"_But, I know now what devastation they do. I have read the reports of Panama and Porto Bello. The violence, the terror, the women and children killed, sometimes tortured. And the way they treated the clergymen!" I felt relieved. Her sense of justice had overridden her romantic notions. _

"_It must be difficult for a girl like you to live here in Port Royal, where there is so much to feed your romantic sensibilities." She looked at me surprised, then laughed. I joined her, elated at the sensation that I had caused her merriment. I watched the amusement flickering in her eyes, as she said, _

"_You have found me out, Captain. But pray, don't tell Lady Barclay, she will likely sick Lord Barclay's prized pointer on me." We had another good laugh at this. How I loved her then! _

_All too soon our afternoon came to an end. As I cantered away from the governor's ornate front door, my mind began to swim with thoughts of my proposal. On the horizon, the sun was setting, its red light touching the tops of the houses as if to bless them with protection from the darkness of the night ahead. _

_..._

_The next morning as I was at my work, doing my best to keep my mind focused on navy matters, but failing miserably; my aide entered, informing me that Mr. Graham and the Admiral were here to see me. Frowning with curiosity, I rose from my desk as the servant showed my guests into my newly furnished drawing room. _

"_Good-day Captain! I say, what a splendid-looking room. You've really done it up since I was here last, James." The Admiral was in a good mood, as was I._

"_Yes. I decided to refurnish it when I returned to Port Royal. It was rather shabby before. Mr. Graham." This last was accompanied by a bow to the Admiral's companion. _

"_I am glad to find you in this morning," Mr. Graham started. "We called for you yesterday, but you were otherwise engaged." He half-smiled, knowingly before continuing. "Now, let's get down to business. Captain Norrington, the Admiral and I have come here this morning to inform you that you are to receive a promotion." He handed me a sealed document._

At that moment, a knock sounded on his cabin door.

"Morning Admiral. I was in this part of the ship and I thought I would look in on you. How's it coming?" Captain Turner was in a good mood.

"I am about to be made Commodore." Norrington replied, genially.

"Well, congratulations. You will dine with me again this evening?" He didn't wait for a reply, but turned to answer a shouted inquiry from a man on deck.

Norrington turned back to his work.

_The document read:_

_James Norrington, Captain in His Majesty's Navy in the Caribbean, through his many deeds and accomplishments in the service of His Majesty King George, is hereby appointed to the position of Commodore; to be in command of the ships belonging to the King's Colony of Port Royal, effective immediately, with the completion of a formal ceremony._

_By the power of (here the writing switched to each man's individual signature)_

_Admiral Michael Braithwaite, His Majesty's Navy_

_Royal Governor Weatherby Swann_

_And witnessed by _

_Mr. Theodore Graham_

_The date was written at the bottom of the sheet. I was puzzled._

"_But, this date is for Thursday."_

"_Yes. There is a formal ceremony on Thursday afternoon at the fort to confirm the promotion."_

_  
I felt dazed. In my raptures about Elizabeth, I had temporarily forgotten my ambition for my career. Then, suddenly, I was struck by my good fortune._

"_Thank you, sir. I am honored to receive such a promotion." I shook his hand._

"_Well, you deserve it, James. You've done well, and you know it." The Admiral was beaming like a proud father. I realized that I must thank the Governor._

"_If you will excuse me gentlemen, I should like to pay my respects to Governor Swann."_

"_Ah! Weatherby, by all means! While you're at it, invite him to dinner tonight! I trust you'll join Isabelle and I tonight?"_

"_Gladly, Admiral." Just then, my aide entered with a note from the Governor himself. It expressed formally but warmly his congratulations for my promotion. There was a post script:_

_"Elizabeth wants me to add her congratulations as well."_

_I hoped Elizabeth would be pleased. I had often discussed my ambitions with regards to my career, it was something I could not help. As I made the ride to the fashionable part of town, I felt as though I had finally reached my peak. I was now (almost) a Commodore, living in a town where I could exercise my natural abilities and be honored and respected by good society. I had a family in Governor Swann, and hopefully a wife soon in Elizabeth. I decided that I would make Thursday the day. After my promotion ceremony, I would ask Elizabeth to be my wife._

_..._

_The Governor greeted me warmly._

"_Well done James!" Seeing the expectant look on my face, he said. "Elizabeth is not here she's out shopping with Lady Barclay. But she's very pleased for you. As am I."_

_We sat, sipping an exquisite wine. _

"_I'm so grateful to you, sir."_

"_Oh, none of that. If I hadn't thought you deserved it, I wouldn't have authorized it. Besides, Mr. Graham was very impressed by you." He took a sip of his wine. "I have to admit I also have my own selfish reason for the promotion. I hope it will finally urge you to ask my daughter to marry you." My heart swelled at the thought._

"_Indeed, my hopes run in the same direction. So, you think I have a chance of her saying yes?"_

_He stopped and considered. "She has rejected many before you. I know she thinks very highly of you, and holds you as a good friend. That is enough to marry on, and once you are engaged and she begins to think of you as a husband, that friendly affection will deepen into love, I'm certain of it." I hoped that he was mistaken and that Elizabeth already loved me. I couldn't bear the thought of her being stuck in a marriage where she didn't love. _

"_I hope you are right." I stopped, hesitantly, then cleared my throat. "Governor Swann, I would like to ask your permission--"_

"_Oh James, none of that. You know you have my blessing. I wish you the best of luck my boy." He was silent, a thoughtful look breaking across his face. "I think I will join Lady Barclay in her shopping." He stood. "You will forgive me."_

_I stood as well, biding him goodbye and repeating the Admiral's invitation for dinner. I left, wishing that today were Thursday. I could hardly wait to have Elizabeth's answer. The sun beaming in the sky seemed to be a good omen, a harbinger of Elizabeth's acceptance. I ignored the nagging worries that she might not accept, floating along on the confidence of my promotion and memories of Elizabeth's warmth and beauty._

_..._

Author's Note: Ok, so one more chapter, I lied. But canon is coming! Because I have been away all weekend and have not posted, I decided to give you two chapters as a consolation prize! More soon!


	12. Chapter 11

-1**Chapter Eleven**

_At last Thursday came. The day was oppressively hot, and I thought as I dressed for the ceremony that it was a good thing that it had been scheduled during the morning, not to have the populous out in the apex of the day's heat. I had never owned a set of clothes as opulent and elegantly trimmed as my Commodore's uniform. The Governor had commissioned it for me as a present for my promotion and his man had brought it round for fitting yesterday. Usually I did not incline towards such dandified dress, keeping my clothes modest and well cut, just suiting my station, but the Governor and the British navy were fond of gold trim, and so I wore it. I also donned, for the first time, a white powdered wig, carefully curled in a simple but fashionable style. Mozart had enjoyed the task, spending several meticulous minutes shaping it just right. The last thing I put on was the medal which indicated my promotion, a spangled star held on a silky red ribbon. _

_When he had finally finished dressing me, Mozart stood back, letting out an expression of awe. I stared at my finely dressed reflection, thinking how far I had come from that small boy in Weymouth. I thought with a pang how much I wished my parents and my uncle could be here, and wondered if my mother were alive whether she would be pleased. I had written my uncle, telling him of my promotion, and of my hopes for a marriage. I invited him as I always had, to come and visit me here in Port Royal. _

_The Admiral and Mrs. Braithwaite came to pick me up in their carriage, choosing to leave little Geoffrey behind where it was cool instead of exposing him to such heat. As we rattled along the short distance to the fort, I felt my stomach clench in anticipation and nervousness. In my head, I tried to remember what I had prepared to say to Elizabeth. I pictured her, standing in the sun, looking up at me lovingly, her lips forming a soft but unwavering "I will." The carriage stopped, jolting me out of my daydreams. The steps fell and we climbed out._

"_Well, James, this is where I leave you. You'll wait just in there. See you soon, Commodore." The Admiral shook my hand bracingly before taking Mrs. Braithwaite's arm and leading her to the courtyard where all of fashionable Port Royal were beginning to assemble, and where the entire British navy stationed here in Port Royal was on parade, highlighted by red-coated marines, putting all of their crisp English discipline to good use. I was beginning to pity them, lord knew how long they had been out in this blazing sun, when I heard the band begin to play a march. How suddenly everyone had assembled!_

_An order was shouted and with practiced precision the marines drew their swords in a salute. I turned into the courtyard, looking through the avenue of glinting metal to where Governor Swann stood, smiling proudly and wearing almost as much gold braid as I was. Beside him was the Admiral and a Lieutenant holding a long wooden box. I took a deep breath and began to walk slowly through the row of swords. I was suddenly nervous, felt all of the eyes watching me, the heat adding to my lightheadedness. As I passed the civilian spectators I didn't dare venture a look at Elizabeth; all of my efforts must be focused on the ceremony right now._

_I reached the Governor, who turned to open the case I had seen. It held a sword, beautifully crafted, inlaid with gold, and, I realized as he handed it over, perfectly balanced. Delighting in the feel of it in my hand, I executed a perfect salute, first to the Governor, then to Admiral Braithwaite and my fellow officers, and then with a final flourish, towards the audience. I sheathed the sword and it was buckled on to me as I stood, stock straight under the glaring sun. It was only then that I caught sight of Elizabeth. _

_I felt dizzy once again, and not entirely from the heat. She looked as I had never seen her before. She was wearing a cream dress decorated with golden flowers and looking very much like a fairy tale princess waiting for her prince charming. Her hair was piled atop her head with a bonnet, making her look much older than her twenty years. The heat had her in full color, adding a luster to her already beautiful skin. Her fan was fluttering violently, and indeed she looked quite unwell. In my mind I urged the Governor to read out his proclamation more quickly, so that Elizabeth might be saved from this hellish weather._

_Before I could think again of Elizabeth and her troubles, the ceremony was over and I was cornered by admirers and well-wishers. A few pretty young misses were pushed my way, but I could only look past them to where Elizabeth was standing by herself, sipping a cool glass of yellow liquid and continuing to fan herself. Finally the initial clamor was over, the string quartet playing a soft tune, guests milling lazily in the heat, cursing their powdered wigs and flounced petticoats, their heavy frock coats and fashionable silk stockings. White-wigged servants passed among the guests with cool drinks and tiny sweets; the governor and his colleagues stood chatting in a circle, looking like a flock of sheep in their curly wigs. Lady Barclay was standing with Mrs. Wythe, both clutching tasseled parasols and pretending not to watch me closely as I moved towards Elizabeth, who still looked stunning, despite her rather wilted nature in this heat. I was reluctant to draw her out of the shade offered by the fort's stone archways and into the sunlight, but the ramparts were the only areas that were free of guests, where we could be alone, where I could confess my feelings and ask her to be mine. _

"_May I have a moment?" I asked her courteously, leading her to where the fort stretched out over the crashing waves. _

_I stood, trying to collect my thoughts, to remember all that I had wanted to say. I was aware of the silence that was growing between us, and Elizabeth's obvious discomfort._

"_You look lovely, Elizabeth." She smiled unsteadily, her nerves no doubt matching mine._

"_I apologize if I seem forward, but I must speak my mind." What was I saying? These staid words were so far from the feelings I had for her. I should just tell her how my heart was thudding in my chest, how I felt breathless whenever I was near her, how she enchanted me to the very core. I should just take her up in my arms as I was so longing to do, locking her in an embrace, pouring out my passion in an ardent kiss. Instead I said,_

"_This promotion casts into sharp relief that which I have not achieved: a marriage to a fine woman." I looked to see what effect my words were having on her. She seemed overwhelmed by my affection, and reached out a hand to steady herself. She did not, however, look displeased. I continued._

"_You have become a fine woman, Elizabeth." Say it! Just ask her! Why was this so hard? We had been honest to each other about so many things before now--I had watched her grow from a little girl--and yet I found that the words of love stuck in my throat. All of a sudden I was keenly aware of the hot heaviness of my coat, the sweat dampening my expertly tied cravat, my feet baking inside my shining black boots, the buckles on my accoutrements frying beneath the sun's blistering rays… And then Elizabeth was uttering something._

"_I can't breathe." She whispered, sounding quite like she meant it. Her honesty triggered a rush of sympathy, of familiarity, and I turned away, suddenly shy in the face of her emotions. _

"_Yes, I'm a bit nervous myself." I felt better opening up to her. I turned back, emboldened, only to see her dress ballooning beneath her as she fell into the rushing waves. I felt sick with terror as I watched my nightmare of so many years ago playing out before me. I called out her name just as I had then, ripping off my coat, ready to jump in after her, to save her, to pull her out of the ruthless water. Lt. Gillette caught my arm, snapping me back into reality. He pointed to the wicked rocks jutting out from below the water, which Elizabeth had mercifully avoided._

_What happened next seemed to take forever, though in reality only a few minutes passed. I turned, the Lieutenant springing to action and calling some marines leaning against the fort's wall to attention, barking at them to follow us. I marched back into the group of guests startling a footman and sending a tray of crystal glasses tumbling across the fort's stone floor. I found the Governor, bursting into his conversation with Mr. Graham, and in a few short sentences I told him what had happened. Immediately his look of sociability melted into a strained, worried frown. We both hurried to join the marines who were racing to the dockside. Thank god for Gillette's presence of mind that day. When we finally reached the dock, I was not prepared for what I saw. _

_There was Elizabeth, thankfully alive, in her underskirts and dripping wet, and looming over her, also dripping wet, was a rough looking man, with greasy black skin, wearing all manner of coarse beads and trinkets in his dark unkempt hair. It didn't take more than a glance for me to guess that he was a pirate. He was holding Elizabeth's necklace in two of his grimy hands, peering at it greedily. My mother's face flashed through my memory as I drew out my sword, bringing it to the vermin's neck. A half dozen bayonets joined my blade, as I ordered him to his feet. The Governor rushed forward, securing Elizabeth, and suddenly I felt my level-headedness return; the calmness and clarity of authority and law, the familiar weight of a sword in my hand. I felt, too the complete and utter disgust that I always felt around pirates._

"_Shoot him!" the governor yelped feverishly, and my anger doubled at this man who could have caused the governor such anguish. Before I could give the order, I heard Elizabeth's calm and determined voice addressing me._

"_Commodore," I looked at her, my sword edging closer to my victim's throat. "Do you really intend to kill my rescuer?" Her sense of justice was piqued. In a moment, I felt admiration for her goodness and steadfastness, then with a glance at the governor, his fear and pain that renewed my fury at this dissolute heartless creature before me, and then I realized that no matter what justice dictated, I did not want Elizabeth to see me as a bloodthirsty murderer. Nor, my superstition prickled , on a day like this did I want to have blood on my hands. But I could not just let him get away. Sheathing my sword, I stepped forward as the men raised their guns._

_I put out my hand, employing a trick that I had seen Captain Carriger use often. Let us see if this pirate had enough vestiges of gentility left to fall for it. He took my hand, and in a flash, my other was on his shirtsleeve, yanking it up to reveal what I knew must be there. East India Trading Company vessels always kept branding irons to mark any pirate that crossed their path should he escape. And there, just above a coil of filthy fabric the man wore about his wrist, was a small pink welt, in the shape of a 'P.' Now I had confirmation of my suspicions, and just cause to hang the scoundrel. He winced, as the situation turned in a direction not at all in his favor. _

_I shouted some orders and the guns returned to their deadly position, ready to fire at any moment. I'll admit I was behaving arrogantly, eager to show off in front of Elizabeth. A tattoo further up the man's arm identified him. _

"_Well, well. Jack Sparrow, isn't it?" I knew the name well. He wasn't one of your ruthless pirates, generally he was a nuisance to the British Navy and other ships in the Caribbean, but wasn't prone to killing as long as he got what he wanted. Even so, he was a pirate, branded one by the Company, and by law he had to hang. Besides, he had annoyed several of the men who held the future of my career in their hands. _

_Elizabeth, wrapped in her father's blue spangled coat, was watching the scene with curious eyes. I realized that this was the first time she had ever encountered a pirate, and I felt it best that I dispel any lingering romantic notions she had. I openly flouted the man, and in truth it was not hard. His pistol and dagger were hardly worthy of the name weapons, his compass was broken, and his hat was moth eaten and dingy. He was certainly not one of your gentleman pirates like Edward Teach, who put ribbons in his distinguishing long black beard whenever he was going ashore; or Henry Morgan, who went on to be knighted._

"_You are without doubt the worst pirate I have ever heard of." There, that should be the end of Elizabeth's childish fancies. _

_The dog had the audacity to reply!_

"_But you have heard of me." In response, I grabbed him and handed him roughly over to Gillette, who was holding a pair of shackles._

_Apparently, Elizabeth had not gotten the message. She followed, imploring me to let the man go free._

"_Pirate or not, this man saved my life." Yes, I wanted to tell her, but he and his kind have also killed thousands, raped, destroyed towns and civilizations, and sent countless innocents to the bottom of the sea. Had she forgotten the shipwreck she had witnessed as a girl? The charred carcasses, mangled by the flames beyond all recognition? I would have said as much had it just been Elizabeth and I, but the governor would not like me to speak to Elizabeth so frankly._

"_One good deed is not enough to redeem a man of a lifetime of wickedness." I was hoping she would finally accept my decision and realize that what I was doing was for her own good._

"_Though it seems enough to condemn him." I was tired of everyone second guessing me! Even this rogue! Would all of this not be over and done with? Elizabeth was displeased with me, and I couldn't bear that. Wouldn't all this just end so that I might bring her back into the safe world of lace and tea and "what fine weather we are having today Miss Swann?" In that world, I was worthy of her love. Here, on this dock overlooking the Caribbean Sea nothing was as it should be. Elizabeth was mottled and barely clothed, the governor stood about looking not at all like the strong father figure that I had come to depend upon, and I, who should be drinking toasts to Elizabeth's and my engagement, was here, dealing with a pirate._

_Lt. Gillette finished securing the hand irons on the prisoner, and stepped back. Then, just as it seemed all was well, calamity struck once more. In a second he had Elizabeth, with the chain of his shackles wrapping round her delicate neck, a look of fear and pleading on her face. The Governor yelled something at the men. I couldn't think, arrested by the fear in Elizabeth's eyes. Then I was being ordered about by the man, handing over his belongings, seething as I watched this pirate breath his rummy breath down Elizabeth's neck._

_He cocked his gun, and forced Elizabeth to strap on his things. He grinned vilely, running his lewd gaze over Elizabeth's wet body, which was pressed against him, before directing a taunting look at me. Such impudence! I watched him, wanting to draw out my sword and call him out, right there on the dock, the anger burning within me. How dare he look at Elizabeth that way, how DARE he! Elizabeth was not to be ravaged by any man, and if he laid one finger on her I would hunt him down and make sure he never ogled another young lady again._

_Elizabeth turned round, the dirty muzzle of his pistol pressed against her neck, stiffening in defiance. He backed slowly away from us along the dock, and I gripped my sword handle, thinking he was not going to uphold the unspoken bargain. Then I was catching Elizabeth, reveling in the feeling of her warmth against my arm that curled about her waist, before turning my attention to Sparrow, who was somehow suddenly spinning through the air. I shouted at the men to open fire, and the putrid smoke filled the air as the shots went wide, and he landed. I could see where he was headed, and I bellowed an order, pulling away from Elizabeth and dashing after the man, my men following me._

_The marines knelt and formed a firing line, but Sparrow was ahead of them, running and yelling like an idiot. He ran into the town, and I sent Gillette to muster more marines from the fort. Now we would have to search all the buildings, and even then he could get away. It could take all day, a day which was supposed to be full of celebrating. Even now from the fort I could hear the faint strains of a quadrille, one I could be dancing with Elizabeth. How had I lost control? I felt the keen guilt of a failed command as I ran behind the red-coated men into the streets of Port Royal. Marines spilled through the streets, officers shouting orders. I looked to where Lt. Gillette was standing with some other officers examining a sheet of paper._

"_Lieutenant!" I called him over. "I would like to assure myself of Miss Swann's safety. I will rejoin you later."_

"_Sir." He gave me a quick salute before shouting "Private Smith, look lively there! He won't be found by your dawdling!"_

_..._

_I mounted the steps of the governor's mansion, giving a rather vigorous knock. My conscience told me that I ought to be with my men, rectifying my mistake, but my heart was aching to see Elizabeth. Twice today I had almost lost her, and I just wanted to see her dried and dressed, to assure myself that she was alright; and I thought selfishly, to hopefully find that she had forgiven me. I felt a pang as I realized that it was my own selfishness that had placed Elizabeth in danger; if only I had seen that she was truly unwell, she might have fainted into my arms instead of falling off of the ramparts. When I walked into the drawing room there was the Governor with Elizabeth; Lady Barclay fussing over her. Elizabeth was in a rather plain dress, her hair pulled back into its customary half-upsweep, most of her hair falling freely over her shoulders, still damp. She looked once again the wild young girl I knew. She gave me a rather cool greeting. She was still angry with me. How could I make her see that what I did was the right path?_

"_Elizabeth. I know you are displeased with my actions today. If you could only understand my reasons for doing what I did, then perhaps you would not think so harshly of me."_

"_I don't think you could possibly tell me that you were going to unjustly kill a man in any terms that would not make it seem barbaric," she shot back, piercing me with that accusatory glare, just as potent as it had been at age ten. _

_I felt suddenly guilty, as though I ought to have freed the man. He had, after all, saved Elizabeth, and I f felt a surge of gratitude towards him. That was nonsense, my better judgment argued back, this man deserved everything he got. If I were to set him free, then how could I hang any truly bloodthirsty pirate? No, the law was the law, and it could not be bent for any man. _

"_Elizabeth!" the Governor was admonishing her. "The man was a pirate! Do you have any idea what he might have done to you had not the Commodore arrived when he did? No, of course you don't." The last was said as an afterthought. Well-bred young ladies should have no knowledge of such things, but I could tell Elizabeth did._

"_I can take care of myself." Elizabeth declared, before rising swiftly and leaving the room. After a moment I rose too._

"_Governor, having assured myself of Elizabeth's safety, I must return to my duties."_

"_No, James don't go. She's just angry that's all, she'll cool down." I didn't want to stay. I wanted to lose myself in my work and forget the harsh disdain in those soft brown eyes. I had failed with Elizabeth, now at least I might be able to succeed in capturing Sparrow. _

"_Forgive me, governor, but I really must go." With that, I turned abruptly and stomped out of the room. _

_..._

_I found Gillette, who seemed surprised to see me so soon. I cut off his enquiry by demanding a report. They had searched most of the houses along Charles Street, and a fisherman lingering there had mentioned seeing a man who looked rather like a pirate run into one of the houses in the street in which we were standing. _

"_Come on." I gestured for him to follow as we scrambled into a house after the red-coated marines. I wanted to be aggressively engaged in the search, to douse my temper in activity._

_It wasn't until we reached Mr. Brown's smithy that we had any luck. There, on the floor of the shop was the prostrate figure of Jack Sparrow, with Mr. Brown holding a broken bottle and looking as inebriated as he always did, and Mr. Turner standing by, a sword on the ground beside him. For some reason I resented his presence, and so refused to acknowledge his doubtless pivotal role in capturing Sparrow. This time the pirate was cuffed and escorted without a fuss, and deposited firmly in the Port Royal gaol. _

_As the heavy cell door slammed upon him, I felt myself relax, awash in the relief of a job completed. Tomorrow he would be hanged, and I would be free of the scoundrel, who seemed to be doing his best to unsettle the careful order of my life. He had interrupted my promotion celebrations, strained my relationship with Elizabeth, and made me seem incompetent in front of my men. I was beginning to realize how, even without killing hundreds, this pirate was wanted in all of the king's colonies. _

_Unable to visit the governor's mansion and unwilling to return to my quarters where I would no doubt brood over the day's events, I returned to the fort, by now cleared of any festivities. I had hoped that I would find it bustling with some kind of business that I might be involved in, but the fort sat quietly in the hot afternoon. Eager to have occupation, I called the fort to a complete inspection, and was able to pass the hours until sundown checking flintlocks and examining touch holes. At dark, the governor came to pay me a visit._

"_James. How are you feeling?" We walked along the ramparts, looking out at the sea._

"_Better." I lied. I was unwilling to cheer up. My temper had diffused into self-pity. I wanted to sulk._

"_Ah now, don't take things so hard. You know Elizabeth has a temper, but it soon fizzes out and she is herself again. Like her mother in that respect." When I didn't respond, he tried another subject._

"_Ghastly weather, don't you think?"_

"_Bleak, very bleak." The fort was shrouded in fog, the night humid and foreboding. I didn't mind the weather, it matched my own dark mood. But I wouldn't have any more time for my own moping. A rumble sounded in the distance._

"_What was that?" The Governor stopped to look towards the source of the noise. I looked, at once recognizing the whistling of a cannonball headed straight for us._

"_Cannon fire!" I yelled, tackling the Governor and escaping the blast. "Return fire!" I bellowed at the artillery crew, but they were already measuring out the powder and ramming a cannonball down the barrel. I borrowed a telescope and trained it on the area where the flashes of sparks were coming from. In the flickering light I could just make out the outline of a dark ship with tattered sails. While I had been nursing my stupid pride, Port Royal had come under attack--by pirates._

... 

Author's Note: No matter how you may try, you just can't get away from the humor of the proposal scene. She's passing out and he thinks she's merely overcome by emotion. It was interesting writing justifications for Elizabeth's behavior through Norrington's eyes.

So here we are, finally into canon. I'll admit I was nervous, and I don't like this chapter near so much as some of my earlier ones, but it came out ok. It's hard, because the Norrington I have written is compassionate, intelligent, and so completely obsessed with Elizabeth that there is no way that he could have missed that she was about to faint. Lol.


	13. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

_Every battle I have ever been in is etched in my memory, usually marked by a single image. The first and most distinct thing I remember about this night is the moon. Colder than it should be, glowing unnaturally from behind its shroud of cannon smoke, floating like a ghost above the faded flag of England. The flag now twitched and fluttered, as though annoyed by the commotion and the shrapnel that was swishing past its proud colors. As I stood on the ramparts, the battle growing around me, I felt the usual symptoms of battle crash over me. My mouth went suddenly dry, my pulse quickened, a dizzying heat flushed to my head before crashing into my stomach knotting my insides with fear. Within moments the dizzy sensation dissipated, leaving the familiar clarity of battle, as though the knowledge that you were going to die made your senses double their efforts, and your mind work twice as quickly. I could feel the rhythm of the guns almost as a heartbeat, thumping against the stone walls beneath my feet. I felt our massive 32-pounders bellow a reply as the gun crews dodged the recoil and instantly began reloading. Another blast from the enemy's guns threw two men from the ramparts, falling silently, already dead. Watching them, my stomach tightened again, and I felt nauseous with the terror. _

_I began to walk along the crews, overseeing their progress, letting the officers show their talents rather than calling out superfluous commands myself. I betrayed none of my anxiousness, passing among the men with a firm, composed, and I hoped, fearless looking expression; conscious of the eyes upon me, and the men's need to see my strength. I remembered how I watched Captain Carriger the same way, knowing somehow that this godlike officer who walked unscathed through the hell of the battle would serve as a talisman to protect me, that I would share in his immortality. I wondered, suddenly, if Captain Carriger were still alive, as another shot exploded loud in my ear, my jaw clenching momentarily before I forced it to relax._

_I have always hated being holed up in a fort, with nothing to do but wait for the battle to shift and crouch, as the men were now doing, against the cold stone walls and pray that the guns would stop, that the hell would end. I much preferred sea battle. In a ship you had some mobility, and if you had speed and ability you could sink the devils before they sank you. Or perhaps you could board them, and through melee achieve an outcome. Anything was better than this immovable form of battle, this battle of waiting and uncertainty. In a fort even with your best pieces and best men you could lose miserably, trapped inside your own walls, your defenses acting as a cage, inside which you would die the slow agonizing death of hunger, or the swift, horrific death of flame. That was if your mind didn't do the job first._

_I was interrupted in these grim thoughts by the sight of Governor Swann, standing in his finery, crouching feebly as the guns hammered around him, spitting shot and smoke to stain his lovely blue coat. My heart leapt into my throat. What was he still doing here?! In a few long strides I was next to him._

"_Governor, barricade yourself in my office." He looked at me, stunned, as another shot flashed from the direction of the enemy ship. _

"_That's an order!" I fired at him, my grasp and my voice harsher than I had meant. I softened. "Please, for your safety." He nodded, speechless and frightened._

"_Private!" I called to the nearest marine. Above the roar of the guns I shouted, "Escort the governor safely to my office." As an after thought I added. "Then return to your post." The man nodded. I turned back to the governor. "As soon as the streets are safe I'll have a carriage with an escort take you home."_

_I watched them descend the steps to my office, a large cavernous room with an overpowering desk that I sometimes used, usually preferring to work in my own quarters. It was the only place I could think to put the Governor, knowing he would be able to fret and cower beneath the desk until I could come for him. He had known Port Royal to be attacked in his ten years of governance here, but he had always listened to the bombardment from the balcony of his fine house, never having to face the lethal reality of the heavy guns. _

_I turned back to the sea as the guns fired again. I imagined the crew of the enemy ship reloading, swabbing the barrel, ramming a solid 10 pound shot into the barrels, measuring the powder, inserting a carefully measured fuse through the touch hole, and yanking on the heavy ropes forcing the guns back through their holes, and and pulling the lanyard to fire. I had watched men do it time and again, commanding them, crouching on the gun deck, calming their nerves and staying their hands, waiting to fire until the right moment. I watched the smoke puffing from the dark ship, remembering my first encounter with the big guns, firing at empty barrels for practice. I had been awed then, to see the way they had transformed a few sturdy barrels into a sea of splinters. Now those same guns were hurling missiles just as deadly at the fort. In the darkness I could sometimes see the balls coming towards me, and I could always hear them._

_The enemy was alternating between solid shot and canister, the wicked casements encompassing tiny bits of lead that could strip flesh from your very bones. A shot exploded very near my new plumed hat, and I started, looking down to where a white-faced young private was holding a bucket of water meant to swab out the fort's overheated guns, administered by a sponge at the end of a long pole. The boy couldn't be more than 15, no doubt plucked from his country hamlet somewhere in England by a recruiting sergeant with a fast tongue, a few shillings, and a multitude of rum. _

_The boy blinked up at me, wide-eyed and scared, doing his best to pretend he wasn't. I smiled._

"_Good evening, private." I said, as though we were at a garden party instead of facing the foul breath of the deadly cannons._

"_Brooke, sir." He said as a reply, touching his hat in a nervous salute as the guns sounded, causing him to jerk slightly, one hand clutching at his chest, where beneath the cross belts, red jacket and dirty shirt there must be a talisman of some kind, probably a cross. I was surprised. He was not from England, but his accent indicated America._

"_You're a long way from home for an American." I remarked. "Where are you from, Brooke?"_

"_Massachusetts, sir." He flinched, as a cannonball thumped into the courtyard. I pretended not to notice._

"_And were you at the ceremony this afternoon, Private Brooke?" _

"_Yes, sir. Hotter than hell, it was. And long." Then he cursed agitatedly under his breath as a canister exploded above our heads, a man falling from the ramparts, grabbing his belly._

"_Yes. But there were some very pretty girls in attendance. You could pass the time admiring them, perhaps." I was thinking of Elizabeth._

_He smiled for the first time. "Aye, there were a lot of fine faces there, but none to compare with my Meg." He blushed. "We're engaged, you see. I'm to make my fortune here and then return to ask her father for her hand." I nodded, knowing this would never happen. Of all the tales told by recruiting sergeants, the biggest lie of all was that of fortune. These wily men spun beautiful images of men marching back into their provincial towns astride a fine horse, covered in glory with saddlebags weighed down by gold. The reality was that the army rarely paid, or paid on time. Hardship and hunger were what awaited a soldier of His Majesty, and if he did return home, he would often be counted as a godless, thieving, scoundrel, whether or not this was true. _

"_And what happens then?" I asked._

"_I'll buy myself a small boat and start a fishing business. The market for fish is very good in Massachusetts, and it will be enough to support a wife. Then, by and by, I'll have a small fleet of fishing boats. I hope to become very rich."_

_I was amused. "Any children?"_

_He considered. "About five I should think. Boys of course." I grinned._

"_Well Mr. Brooke, when you become a grand man living in a fine house in Massachusetts with five strapping boys and your lovely Meg, I will come and visit you and we can have a drink together and remember this night, setting all the ladies' fans a-flutter with tales of our courageous deeds." He grinned back, no longer flinching as another volley banged in the distance._

_I envied him his simple dreams, and the steadfastness of his sweetheart's love. I was still unsure of mine. I thought of Elizabeth, praying she was safe. Was she thinking about me? Worrying about me? If I died, would she be sad? I gave a final salute to young Brooke and plunged back into the battle. _

_An hour later he lay in the courtyard, surrounded by other corpses, his face covered in blood, and his right hand clasped around a small scrap of lace, once white, now stained red with his blood. I thought as I looked down on him of his Meg, imagining a rosy brown girl with freckles, who would never be the wife of the fisherman Mr. Brooke, or bear his five sons. I turned away, hearing above the guns the beginnings of the assault party. From the streets came the shouts and screams, the clang of swords and the bang of pistols as the pirates plundered and ravaged. I was suddenly arrested by the terrible thought of yet another licentious pirate looming over Elizabeth. Then, not allowing my mind to go any further, I barked an order that sent a detail of marines over to the governor's mansion._

"You're writing at quite a pace there, Admiral. Must be exciting stuff." Norrington looked up, his muscles releasing a little. There he saw the Captain, standing in the doorway. He frowned at the interruption.

"Forgive me. I did knock." The older man decided it was not worth arguing over.

"Good evening, Captain. What brings you here?"

"I'm come to bring you to dinner. I've dodged Kirby. He would be so angry with me if he knew, but every now and then I like to take care of my own affairs."

"I felt the same way for my first command. Just a moment, I will be right with you." The Admiral stood, powdering and storing his pages, pulling on his coat and donning his wig and hat. Then, looking very proper indeed, he stepped through his door to join Captain Turner.

"So what was it you were cracking away at with such a ferocity?" He inquired as they climbed onto the deck.

"I was writing of the siege on Port Royal."

"Yes. What a night. I went rushing off to be a hero only to be knocked unconscious within twenty minutes," Will recalled, laughing at himself.

The Admiral hid his astonishment. It took great maturity to admit something like this, and he thought to himself how the few years had changed Will Turner from a boy into a man. Yet those short years had been filled with adventure and heartbreak, unspeakable evil and loss, death and deception. In order to survive in such an uncertain world, one had to have his wits about him, and it tended to beat the foolishness out of you fast. 'Just look what it has done to me,' he thought to himself, before stepping into the brightness of the Captain's cabin.

--

Author's Note: Jeepers creepers! It has been at least three weeks since I have updated! I apologize. Everything in the world has happened in those three weeks, and quite frankly I was reluctant to write the battle scene because I thought it would turn out poorly. If there is any merit in this chapter at all, it is because I am totally channeling Bernard Cornwell, and if you are into historical fiction or military fiction at all I urge you to read _Redcoat_ or any of the Richard Sharpe novels. J


	14. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

Kirby was there, standing just inside the cabin, looking affronted. His face was stern, with its usual, dignified control, but the corners of his mouth were drooping ever so slightly into a pout.

"Ah, Kirby, there you are. I'm afraid I lost you." Will pretended that nothing had passed between he and his manservant. Norrington was inwardly amused, and as they sat down to a simple dinner of fried fish, he wondered just how Captain Turner had managed to slip past the Cerberean Kirby.

His musings on the subject stopped abruptly as he brought a bite of the dinner to his lips. His mouth instantly felt as if it were going to explode. His face grew hot, and he lunged for his glass, gulping down the ruby liquid in an attempt to douse the fire that was raging inside his mouth. Will was sitting back, chuckling at the Admiral's reaction.

"I see you don't share my taste for spicy foods. I'll have Kirby bring you something else if you like."

Norrington declined. It was not as though he was hungry, anyway.

"We picked up a man floating about on a crate full of spices yesterday. Clever man; an architect. I was talking with him about making some improvements in here."

For the first time, Admiral Norrington truly looked at his surroundings. He had been briefly inside the cabin when it belonged to Davy Jones. Yet Jones' _Dutchman_ and Captain Turner's _Dutchman_ were almost like two completely different ships. Davy Jones had sailed on a vessel that was more coral reef than ship, its carbuncles and crustaceans falling away with his death to reveal a weather-worn ship, which had once been quite grand. The detail was in the style of a different era, a time when man was just beginning to explore the sea. The Captain's cabin was no exception. Exquisite carving highlighted every corner, the ancient wood seeming to spring to life through the magical creatures and expressive faces. The _Dutchman_'s cabin was a dark and narrow room, lit with dozens of candles placed in every nook and cranny. It was not the slimy cave that it had been under its previous occupant, but the carefully carved walls were still a foreboding black, and it was not at all what the Admiral would call cozy. Near the back of the cabin, a velvet cloth covered the massive organ that had often rocked the ship with its reverberations in Jones's days as captain. While these thoughts were running through his mind, the captain continued.

"I had to put a bunk in when I first arrived. It seems Jones never slept."

"I can't say I'm surprised. Will you keep the organ?" Norrington asked, waving a hand at the mountain of velvet.

"I'm not sure. It's built in, as you can see, and it would destroy the pipes to remove it. The craftsmanship is quite superior, and I don't think I could bring myself to ruin such a treasure. Of course, I don't play, so I've no use for it." There was an admiration in his voice, that of a craftsman for fine craftsmanship.

"The one thing it is good for, is to separate my bed from the rest of this cavern." He flicked a hand towards the area at the very back of the cabin that lay behind the overpowering instrument, where, I assumed, his bunk must be. Will moved on to another subject. "There aren't enough windows in here. I'm going to add a row of windows in that wall there. Of course that will mean the end of those Nereides there, but so be it…"

Dinner passed, with Will discussing his improvements and Norrington listening politely. He had never really cared to think about architecture before. On a ship all that mattered was that you had a place to sleep, space for the cargo, ports for the guns, and wind for the sails. Shipwrights often added embellishments, but these just added to the majesty that a ship already carried. When he was on land, he lived in the house he was assigned to. If he had ever had to think about a house with Elizabeth, then he fully intended to hire an architect to worry about those matters. However Turner, the Admiral mused as he was returning to his cabin, was a craftsman, and would want to be actively involved in all those decisions.

Admiral Norrington sat once again at his small desk. He sighed and removed his hat and wig, scratching at his scalp. He pulled out a fresh sheet of paper, dipped his quill in ink, and closed his eyes for a moment, sinking back into the battle. When he could once again see the glow of the moon over Fort Port Royal, he bent over the page and wrote.

_The clamor of the streets grew as citizens were dragged from their houses; some in elegant evening wear, some in simple nightgowns and stocking caps. As I watched the streets, the order to fix bayonets was given. From every corner of the fort I could hear the wicked blades scraping from their sheaths and the click as they were latched into place. The men were already loaded, waiting to fire until their targets came closer, as the smoothbore musket was clumsily inaccurate even at short range. I drew my sword, steeling myself for what I knew would burst through the gates at any moment. _

_At the fort's perimeter shouts rang out, followed by the crack of gunfire as the marines released their first, deadly volley. They began reloading immediately, their faces blackened by the exploding powder, their knuckles scraping against the bayonets as they rammed the bullets home. _

"_Aim for their bellies lads!" Bellowed a gruff voice, and the soldiers obeyed. _

_At the gate, two ranks of marines were stationed to protect the fort's weakest point. The front rank knelt and fired, pouring bullets and smoke into the oncoming mass of swarthy men. The mob seemed undaunted by the barrage as they worked to open the old fashioned port-cullis, using a stolen six-pounder to blast away at the stone and iron blocking their way. As the mini-bombardment began, marines scattered, just as their comrades, perched on the battlements, commenced firing, raining lead down on the attackers and obscuring my view._

_I heard the crumbling stone as the gate gave way, followed by the bloodcurdling yell from the mass of dirty, depraved, and merciless men who charged heedlessly through another volley and into the line of waiting bayonets. I felt the fear surge through my veins anew as I witnessed the desperate fight for survival that now began. The cannons and muskets had done their best, now it was all up to human ability, the strength, courage, and determination that saved a man from becoming another of the mangled corpses in an unmarked mass grave. In the courtyard below, men used both ends of their muskets to stab and bludgeon, twisting their bayonets out of the deep flesh to face each new attacker. I saw one man stumble, tripping over the torso of a carcass whose arm had been blown off. In a moment his opponent's blade had silenced his startled shout. Sergeants screamed at the men to 'fight like bloody hell' and 'make their poxy mothers proud.' The marines responded with loud cries, swinging and kicking, cursing the pirates in English, Gaelic, and Portuguese. _

_Despite their fervor, the red-coated bodies piled even higher, while the enemy seemed unaffected. I was hit by a wave of nauseating terror, gripping my sword as these seeming immortals bounded up the fort's stone stairways, sending men tumbling into the courtyard behind them._

_A colossal man with skin the color of cocoa, who wore gold piercing instead of a shirt, leapt at me. Instinctively, I brought my sword up to meet his, warding off the blow. The strength of his swing shot through my arm, shocking my muscles in a ripple of pain. Again, he swooped down upon me, fighting with abandon and brute force, allowing me to easily thrust forward through his nonexistent guard, my blade piercing his side. I jerked my sword, freeing it, expecting him to fall forward, but he did not. I barely had time to watch his wound disappear before he was at me again, his giant sword swooshing past my head as I adeptly stepped right to avoid the blow, bringing my own sword around to slash across his massive thigh, tearing an angry red gash in his leg. While his tattered trousers retained the cut, his leg healed within a moment, and he snarled angrily as he brought his sword around for another killing blow. My heart fairly vibrated within my chest, my mind racing with thoughts of Antaeusian power, and wondered what kind of pact with the devil this man had made. My heart constricted as I once again saw a flash of those yellow eyes that haunted me still._

_Lost in these fleeting thoughts, I was too slow to block my opponent's swing, and the blade sliced my wrist before I was able to catch his huge blade in my ornate hilt and wrench it away. Warm blood leaked through my fine shirt and elegant coat, the pain stinging fiercely. I cursed, and ducked as his sword went whistling past my head. I sprang up to the attack, my skill and technique serving to put him on the defensive for a while. My arms began to ache, and my wrist kept complaining from holding the weight of the sword, the handle becoming slippery as my hand became drenched in my own blood. The man could see I was tiring, and advanced wildly, the sheer power of his blows pushing me backwards along the parapet. I felt the heel of my boot against the stone of a cannon mount, and I stumbled backwards onto the abandoned gun, my throbbing wrist finally releasing my sword. It clattered into the courtyard below. My hand flew instinctively to my pistol, even though I knew it was not loaded. I yanked it in front of my face, aiming at the man's chest, hoping he would give up the fight rather than receive a bullet. He sneered, laughing at me as he raised his final stroke. My finger curved around the trigger and I closed my eyes, praying I would hear the crack of an explosion. _

_When I opened them, I saw my enemy walking away, in the company of another pirate, using his sword to cut a path through the meager remaining forces. I exhaled, relieved, my head reeling with the blood I had lost. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the brightness of a red jacket approaching from the other side of the cannon. Fred Crowthers, looking far more grey and no less kind than when I had encountered him last, put out a hand and helped me to my feet._

"_Commodore. You all right there?" He pointed to my arm. "You'll want to get that taken care of." _

_--_

_While my arm was being bandaged, I watched, puzzled, as the pirates went. They stopped hassling shopkeepers, gulping down rum and burning everything in sight and made their way to the shore, laden with family silver, wedding rings, and gilt frames; their paintings forgotten. One man I could see clutched the golden crucifix that usually sat in Port Royal's chapel. Still others carried barrels filled with food, gunpowder, and (mostly) rum. The smoke from the burning buildings mingled with the gun smoke that was drifting away as the guns fell strangely quiet. _

_To this day, I still cannot fathom why they left. Usually pirate sieges were drawn-out bloody affairs, not stopping until the pirates got what they wanted. Sometimes the attackers would hold an important official for ransom, seeking an easier route to whatever treasure each town had to offer, but Governor Swann was here. Then what had they taken? What treasure did Port Royal have that they would take with them in their ship as they sailed away? At that moment, I could never have guessed how valuable a jewel they had stolen, that Elizabeth was at that very moment aboard a pirate vessel crewed by undead pirates. _

_--_

_I did not sleep at all that night. There were fires to be fought, dead and wounded to be collected and attended to, and damages to be assessed. The marines were still carrying bodies through the smoldering streets when the first rays of sunlight broke over the horizon, illuminating the horror of the night before. Blood stained the cobblestones, some of them blackened by the fires; glass and debris were everywhere. A few of the surviving citizens were huddled in the scorched remains of the church, Father Hibbitts' calm voice leading them in prayer. _

_Having a moment to breathe, I went to my office, opening the door to find the Governor huddled beneath my desk, looking drawn and weary, and very much like a cornered rabbit. His face relaxed a little as he saw me. _

"_James. Is it over? I have not slept a wink." He began climbing out of his hiding place, bumping his head on the way up. I walked him to his carriage, taking a route that had been cleared of bodies, and instructed the coachman to draw all the curtains so that he would not have to witness the battle's devastation. It was better that the men who died this night remained numbers in a report to him. As his carriage trundled away over the uneven and cluttered road, I felt a weight lift from my shoulders. _

_Little did I know, in that amazingly peaceful moment, what dangers lay ahead. _

Author's Note: I'm getting to be shockingly inconsistent in these posts, and I apologize. Another chapter detailing the Siege of Port Royal. It's absolutely absurd the way the film depicts it with Norrington showing up the next morning without even a scratch and looking as though he just left the ceremony, and Governor Swann all frilled and pressed as if he was merely interrupted from his breakfast instead of arriving at the mansion to find the doors blown in, half his servants killed, and his daughter missing. Not to mention Murtogg and Mullroy, who stand there in pristine red uniforms without a trace of blood or gunpowder… Anywho, I felt I just had to write about what would more likely have happened. I found, in order to set up a near death moment with James, that I had to wound him somehow--he's too good a swordsman normally to end up in that position!

While watching DMC and AWE the other day, I was struck with just how depressing and inhospitable the captain's cabin of the _Flying Dutchman _is, and hence the discussion about improvements.

Antaeus was a wrestler that Heracles (Hercules) fought. He was a son of Mother Earth, so every time Heracles flung him to the ground he would spring to his feet, revived. When he realized what was happening, Heracles held Antaeus above his head until he had crushed the life out of him. What with Antaeus, Cerberus and the Neriedes, I guess I was feeling a bit Grecian when I wrote this chapter…


	15. Chapter 14

-1**Chapter Fourteen**

_I was leaning up against one of the fort's stone archways, sipping a crude mug of coffee that had been passed my way, watching the continued clean up efforts and struggling to ignore the weariness I felt, when I saw the governor's carriage clattering back though the street towards me. The carriage lurched to a halt, and Governor Swann stumbled out, his face once again creased with deep lines of concern and helplessness. His eyes were tired, sad, and pleading. He approached me._

"_James. She's gone--Elizabeth. I can't find her anywhere. The servants have all fled or have been shot, my house is in shambles, and Elizabeth is gone!" _

_I didn't know what to say, so I remained quiet, and slowly took a sip of my coffee. I was completely fatigued, my body ached and my head was fuzzy. Then, in a sudden wash, a series of emotions hit me at once. First came frustration and annoyance. Damn Elizabeth! Why could she not keep out of mortal danger for at least a day? More than likely she went seeking the pirates, thinking with her romanticized vision of them that she could reason with the blackguards. And they had probably taken her, and who knows what they might be doing to her right now. Damn that convoy of marines! Why had they not gotten to the mansion in time?! Why had they not stopped the brutes from kidnapping her?! And where were they now?! And most of all damn pirates! Every last uncouth, unwashed, uneducated one of them!_

_Then came the fear and the anxiety. In my exhaustion I even felt a lump gather in the back of my throat. I thought of the accounts I had read of pirates and women, the naked carcasses of girls no more than 15; the respectable women who got on to a pirate ship as a prisoner, and got off as a whore. There was also the supposed practice of what the participants vulgarly called a "roger at the rail", in which a woman would be brutally raped by as many of the ship's crew as wanted her and then dumped over the railing to fend for herself. I couldn't bear the thought of Elizabeth ending up like any of those women. To see my strong, intelligent, compassionate Elizabeth become one of the many diseased prostitutes catering to the dregs of the Caribbean in ports like Tortuga, her spirit broken, her life meaningless, and her good name tarnished by her experiences. Or worse, she could be bent over a railing right now, and very soon be sinking to the bottom of the ocean. I felt sick at these thoughts, and so I decided to assuage my nightmares with action. I straightened up, calling to the nearest marines._

"_You, there! Sergeant! Collect a detail of men and scour the city. Round up any of the servants that work at the governor's mansion and bring them here for questioning." The man ran off in one direction, just as Lt. Gillette strode towards us. He saw the severe look on my face and stopped short. _

"_Lieutenant." We exchanged a salute. "How stand things at the harbor?"_

"_Better than I expected, sir. We lost the Resolve, the Santiago, and the Persistence. But the Marina, the Little Britain, the Aquarius, the Julietta, the Dauntless, and the Interceptor survived. All our other ships, thankfully, are at sea."_

"_Go and make ready the Interceptor. I want to be underway in two hours." He didn't wait for an explanation, but turned on his heel and hurried off in the direction he had just come from. _

_My mind was working fast. Another marine I sent to my quarters to retrieve my maps and papers. Then I turned to the Governor, who had found a chair, and was watching all the action worriedly. His face glistened with silent tears. _

"_Governor Swann, I shall need permission from my Admiral to make this voyage. If you would be so kind as to call upon the Admiral, with my compliments, and let him know what is going on." I paused for a moment. "I presume you are coming on this voyage as well?"_

"_Yes, of course." _

"_Then I would suggest you have a servant pack some things. And have some breakfast. I'll meet you back here."_

_He departed. I felt better not having to worry about him. The normalcy of the call would make him feel better, and keep him away from the fort's carnage and his Elizabeth-less mansion. I didn't go into my office, wanting to be near the street in case any information regarding Elizabeth surfaced, so I had a few of the men bring a table into the walkway on one edge of the fort and spread my maps out to begin plotting our course. I had barely begun, when the sergeant I had addressed earlier returned, with a handful of stable boys, a footman, a cook, and a nervous looking maid._

_I nodded to the sergeant and the three stable boys shuffled forward, prodded by the butt of the man's rifle. I turned to them, my pen poised over a sheet of paper, eager to grasp any information on Elizabeth's disappearance. I hoped perhaps that what we all feared was not true, that Elizabeth had been frightened and run off and would return shortly. I addressed the oldest of the boys._

"_Were you working in the house during the siege last night?"_

"_No, sir, I were in the stables, sir."_

"_And did you see the pirates enter the house?"_

"_No, sir. But they came into the stables. Stole three of the master's horses. We fought em' off as best we could, sir. Willie," he gestured to the boy to his right who looked to be a year or two his junior, "he even shot one of 'em straight on, but it didn't make no difference."_

"_Other than the three horses taken, were there any other horses missing from the stables last night?"_

"_No, sir. They were all there, just scared a bit, that's all." I'll admit I was disappointed. Though I was sure I knew where Elizabeth was, I was hoping now that the servant's would reveal something to indicate that Elizabeth was safe and that we were all overreacting. _

"_And at any time after the siege began did anyone, any of the house servants, come and request a mount?"_

"_No, sir." I allowed a moment of silence to hide my distress as my pen scratched away. I continued._

"_Do you have any knowledge concerning the whereabouts of Miss Swann?"_

"_No, sir. Is she missing?" I didn't answer, but waved a hand that prompted the waiting sergeant to remove the boys and deposit one of the footmen in their place._

"_Were you working in the house last night during the attack?"_

"_I was, sir."_

"_Did you witness anything unusual?"_

"_I did , sir. Those pirates came right to the front door. I saw them shoot Avery before running into the drawing room and making an awful racket. They ruined the master's fine things, taking with them what they wanted, the heathens."_

"_Did you see Miss Swann with any of the pirates?"_

"_I saw her at the top of the stairs just as Old Avery went down. Later she ran down the stairs and into the dining room. Two of the scoundrels were chasing her. Almost got the chandelier on top of her."_

"_Chandelier?"_

"_Aye, the grand one in the main hall, all the way from London--those godless barbarians destroyed it, and the mistress, she ran under it just before it fell."_

"_Then what happened? Did you see Miss Swann leave the house?"_

_He fell silent, ashamed. _

"_Come on, man. I need to know everything that happened. Tell me, where is Miss Swann?"_

_He shrugged, uncomfortably. "I don't know, sir. I wasn't there."_

"_Where were you?"_

"_I left, sir. To check on my wife. To make sure she was safe. She works over at the Lavall place--"_

_My temper flared. Stupid, careless man! "Are you aware that as a servant in the Governor's house it was your duty to remain and protect his things? You saw Miss Swann was in danger! Why did you not go to help her?"_

"_I know I did wrong sir--I thought--my wife is pregnant, sir, she's all I have in the world, you see, an--"_

"_I suppose it would please you to know that thanks to your carelessness, Miss Swann could be dead right now, or worse!" My temper was getting the better of me. At heart, I couldn't be angry with the man. I'm sure I would have done the same in his position. But to think that if he had only…that she would be safe right now…that she would be near blotting out all the ruthless inhumanity of the night before…. _

_The other footman had little to add to his comrade's story. He had seen the butler killed, and watched Elizabeth disappear into the dining room with the pirates, but had been prevented in his pursuit by his own set of attackers. Later when he searched for her she had been missing. _

"_And why did you not come and tell someone here at the fort?" I asked him, fixing him with one of my more unfriendly expressions. His eyes dropped to the table._

"_I don't know sir." He mumbled._

_The cook was next, but she was little help, as she had been in the kitchen the whole time. In fact, as she told it, she had had quite a battle over the stock of wine and spirits that the Governor kept. She spoke with fierce indignation, and I had no doubt that she had given the pirates a sound lashing with her tongue coupled with a staunch wooden rolling pin or iron pan. _

_The maid was next. She had been nervous when she first arrived, and as the others had testified, grew increasingly upset. She let out a little moan every time Elizabeth's name was mentioned, and as the cook recounted the abduction of one of her scullery maids, she began to give way to heartbroken sobs._

_She stood before me then, her front teeth clamped upon her lower lip, tears streaking her cheeks. I recognized her as Elizabeth's lady's maid and reasoned she must be worried about her mistress. I waited a few moments for her to collect herself, but in the silence she only became worse, and so over her display, I began my inquiry._

"_Were you working in the house last night?"_

_She let out a wail and buried her face in her hands._

"_Miss. Miss--please control yourself. I need your help to find your mistress. You have to tell me what you know." She raised her head, crying out suddenly between sobs--_

"_It's my fault! She told me, we stood there and saw Avery get shot, and then she told me to come to the fort and tell you--she was so brave--and so I ran out the front door--but it's my fault--I went to me mother's--I got sacred, I didn't come, and now Miss Elizabeth's been taken by those pirates!" At this point she collapsed into a fit of inconsolable weeping. She continued on in this way for a few minutes._

_She was so heartbroken that I couldn't begrudge her lack of action. I walked from behind the table and spoke to her softly._

"_Thank you, Estrella. I can see that you meant to do your duty by your mistress. I've got to save her now, and I'll need your help. Pack for a voyage, and meet me here in twenty minutes." She quieted, and wiping her eyes profusely, excused herself to do just that._

_--_

_Shortly after she left Governor Swann returned, looking a little better, and considerably calmer. I silently praised Admiral Braithwaite for whatever comforting words he had offered. The Admiral had given his consent to my making the voyage in a sealed note sent along with the governor. Once again I turned back to my maps and began to plot our course, every moment hoping to receive the report that the Interceptor was ready for her departure. I poured all of my efforts into my plan of action. All of my exhaustion, frustration, guilt, and anguish. I buried myself in my maps, working diligently to hide my impatience. I wanted to be off at once. A problem isn't so bad once you can start the solving of it. I felt so stranded standing there, while Elizabeth was I don't know how many leagues away being tormented by pirates. Instead of dry land, I wanted the open tranquility and constant activity of the sea. On my last voyage I had been happy dreaming of Elizabeth and our life together. Once I had set foot on land things seemed to spiral downwards into catastrophe. Perhaps on the waves again I could have a chance of setting things right. I hated to think of it. Elizabeth captured, by pirates! _

_I kept pausing in my work, hoping to see an errand-boy coming to tell me we were to be off at once. But instead of the young midshipman I expected, I received a very different and, at that moment, unwelcome visitor._

_William Turner, armed with an ax and looking as though he might break through a wall in his way, stormed into my makeshift office._

"_They've taken her! They've taken Elizabeth!" He blurted out. His face was etched with the anger and determination that masked his anxiety. _

_I groaned inwardly. I didn't have time right now to deal with lovesick blacksmiths. I needed to stay focused so that we might be off all the sooner. Besides, for some reason, his presence annoyed me._

"_Mr. Murtogg, " I ordered one of the marines, "remove this man." Private Murtogg made a move to do so, but Will shrugged him off roughly, addressing me again. _

"_We have to hunt them down! We have to save her!" _

_Dear God! Would he not be quiet and leave?! Couldn't he see he was acting like a mewling infant? _

"_If you have any information that concerns my daughter then please, share it." The governor was asking, which made Will look a bit sheepish, and blissfully silent. _

_Then, unexpectedly, Private Murtogg piped up. "That Jack sparrow, he talked about the Black Pearl." _

_I paid no attention to the outburst. The Black Pearl was a myth. One of the many ghoulish tales that sailors invented to keep themselves amused on the long empty voyages. I was about to say so, when young Mr. Turner decided to open his mouth again._

"_Ask him where it is! Make a deal with him, he can lead us to it!" _

_Oh if he would only shut up! I was tired, and just as worried about Elizabeth as he was. The very idea of striking an alliance with any pirate was absolutely ridiculous--they'd stab you in your back the moment you turned away. It sounded just like one of those absurd hero stories and probably just the thing Turner had in his mind. Did he think that by saving Elizabeth it would change the fact that he was a blacksmith and she a lady? Besides, it was NOT the Black Pearl that had attacked us! _

"_No. The pirates who invaded this fort left Sparrow locked in his cell. Ergo, he is not their ally." I was practically scolding him, and rightly so--he was behaving like such a child! I turned to the Governor "We will establish their most likely course--"_

"_That's not good enough!" Will exploded, slamming his ax down onto the table, ruining one of my best maps. _

_If he had been trying my patience before, he was asking for a spanking now. Not only was he being a nuisance, but he was telling me how to do MY job! His tone implied that my efforts to win Elizabeth were not good enough, that I was not good enough, that my love for her was not as strong as his. I could feel his affection for her, though before now I had tried to deny it. I resented the way he was putting it on display now, for all to see. _

_Looking back I can now see how much I envied him. I understood his need for action, his love for Elizabeth, his anger at those who would dare to harm her. I bristled at his rashness because I wished I could do just what he had suggested, do anything to save her, as I had done as a Lieutenant during the epidemic. Now I was Commodore Norrington, and I must behave in a way that suited my new station, I had to act cautiously. _

_But at that moment I could not see all of that. I was just angry. Angry at him for delaying my progress in rescuing Elizabeth. Angry with him for challenging my affections and my ability to save her in so open a way. I directed all of the fear, anguish, frustration and disappointment of the last two days at him, chiding him._

"_Mr. Turner, you are not a military man, you are not a sailor, you are a blacksmith." My tone of voice vengefully emphasized his uselessness. "This is not the time for rash actions." _

_I brought my face close to his, staring him in the eyes as I scolded him one last time. "Do not make the mistake of thinking you are the only man here who cares for Elizabeth." _

_There was a hint of a challenge in my voice. I was telling him to leave, showing him how unacceptable his aspirations for Elizabeth were--how proper we would be together. I was basely staking my claim on her, as though she were a horse or a piece of meat. _

_I suddenly grew weary of the conversation, shoving Turner roughly out of my office. He nearly tripped over the approaching Midshipman Dawes, who came with Captain Lewis's respects and a request that any parties traveling on the voyage might report to the dock immediately. In moments I was too busy overseeing the final preparations tp the Interceptor to care what Will Turner was doing._

_--_

_I was reading over a list of those who had died in the attack when Lieutenant Palmer called my attention to just what the young blacksmith had been up to. I pulled out my telescope and trained it on the Dauntless where he had pointed. There I saw Mr. Turner, accompanied by Jack Sparrow. It seemed they were attempting to steal the ship, but any seaman worth his salt knew you needed at least half a dozen men to crew a ship of the Dauntless's size. I smirked inwardly, thinking that Turner's dreams of heroism would be dashed. Looking again I saw Sparrow, flapping his arms wildly while Turner pulled at the ropes. _

"_That's got to be the worst pirate I have ever seen." I remarked to Palmer._

_The Interceptor was finally ready. In no time we were upon the Dauntless and the men were swinging over onto her deck. I crossed over on a gangplank with some of my other officers, the Governor trailing behind. It was time we dispensed with this foolishness and made way. The men spilled through the ship._

"_Search every cabin, every hold, down to the bilges!" I barked, annoyed by yet another interruption in my pursuit of Elizabeth. Damn that Turner! What did he think he was doing?! I heard splash, and turned as I saw the gangplanks fall away into the water, suddenly realizing what was happening._

"_Sailors, back to the Interceptor! Now!" I bellowed, but as I watched the swiftness of the full-sailed frigate quickly widened the gap between the two ships. _

_I stood on the bridge of the Dauntless, watching as Sparrow taunted me from the wheel of my flagship. I had been obviously outwitted by a common pirate. I cursed my stupidity. As the marines fired useless shots at him, I stood in disgrace, my fury prompting me on to even more rash action. _

"_Set topsails and clear up this mess." I commanded Palmer._

"_With the wind a quarter astern we won't catch them--" He cautioned, but I was in no mood to be careful. I wanted to get Sparrow and Turner for making a fool of me. I was a Commodore in His Majesty's Navy, and surely I could not be defeated by a rum-soaked pirate and an infatuated blacksmith's apprentice._

"_I don't mean to catch them. Just get them in range of the long nines." I replied._

"_We are to fire on our own ship, sir?" He was right, it was foolish, but his gentle challenge to my authority made me want to do it all the more. _

"_I'd rather see her at the bottom of the ocean than in the hands of a pirate." I focused my gaze on the stern of the Interceptor, her gold painted letters drifting away into the distance._

"_Commodore!" the steersman called to me. "He's disabled the rudder chain, sir."_

_With no control over our course, we nearly sailed over the longboat containing Captain Fowler and the crew of the Dauntless. I closed my eyes, thinking of the Admiral reading this report, the shame of my utter idiocy stoking my rage. _

"_That's got to be the best pirate I've ever seen." Palmer, still young, opined beside me._

_I responded, every word filled with the complete ire surging through me. "So it would seem."_

_The Interceptor shrank into the horizon, and Captain Lewis let me fume as he instructed the sailors to make the Dauntless ready for voyage, setting sails and repairing the rudder chain. The Governor approached, trying to comfort me, but I would have none of it. I directed a few curt orders at Captain Lewis, and ducked below decks. I slumped into an empty hammock, and feeling once again like a Midshipman who had been scolded during lessons, sank into a much needed slumber for the first time in nearly two days. _

_--_

Author's Note: Whew! Ch. 14 finally done! I've been working a lot lately, and so I tended to scribble a bit and leave it and scribble a bit and leave it. So, this morning, I locked myself in my room until I finished it entirely.

I have discovered, writing this fanfic, that--at least in my version--Norrington and Will are very much alike. They both are very passionate characters, feel deeply about Elizabeth and their convictions. They both believe in justice, though each has a slightly different definition of the word, and they both hate inactivity. It's almost as if James is a more mature version of Will. Like James is sense and Will is sensibility.

Btw--here's a tidbit. The "roger at the rail" is supposedly an actual practice of some pirates, and one of the theories held by historians is that it is the origin of the name "Jolly Roger." Others include an early nickname for the devil "Old Roger", or that it is simply derived from the French expression "Jolie Rouge" meaning 'Jolly Red', as many pirate flags incorporated red into their design--symbolizing the bloodiness of no quarter. But I digress….

Thanks to all reviewers!


	16. Chapter 15

Author's Note: Yes! I am alive and well--but by rights I should be drawn and quartered for leaving my story un-updated for so long! Sorry for the delay! Enjoy!

**Chapter Fifteen**

_When I awoke it was night, and from my gently swaying bunk I could see the moonbeams pouring through from the upper deck. The peaceful calm of the midnight hour was broken only by the steady heartbeat of the ship. Water lapped and shushed against the staunch oaken hull, massive timbers creaked, heavy canvas sails snapped and fluttered faintly. Most of the crew was asleep, and all around me the snores and sighs of the men pulsed in a low breathy rhythm. I lay there for some moments, feeling the familiar sway of hammock beneath me, and blinking up at the sturdy wooden beams of the main deck. I was transported to the many nights I had lain awake contemplating those same beams; as a young midshipman dreaming of home and the mother I had never known; as a lieutenant dreaming of Elizabeth and our life together (amid some rather more anatomical musings). The thought of Elizabeth stung me anew with a bitter anguish. Elizabeth had been abducted by pirates. Men without morals and without qualms. Men who cared only for their selfish whims and desires. My mind replayed all of the humiliation of yesterday's episode, my hands tightening unconsciously into fists as my anger and shame still smoldered. Fortunately the sleep had restored my sense of control, rendering my temper less explosive than the day before. _

_I felt suddenly restless. I rose from my bunk, knowing the deck would be empty aside from the man at helm and the watch. I stepped into the moon's glow, which bathed everything in stillness; as if the sleeping beauty were waiting for her prince to come and wake everyone. At the wheel, a raven haired man with a face that still held some of the freshness of youth, stood, his careful hands guiding the Dauntless through the long lonely hours of the night. I gave him a silent greeting, to which he responded with a crisp salute. I inquired as to our location, and was disappointed to find we were not very far from Port Royal. Not as far as I had hoped I'd be by now, anyway. I couldn't help wondering how Turner and Sparrow had faired; whether they had rescued Elizabeth or not. _

_I left the bridge and started stalking along the perimeter of the main deck. The dark folds of the Caribbean Sea spread out along the horizon. The moon, floating there, suddenly seemed so far away, and I was swallowed by the vastness of the ocean and the hopelessness of my position. How much of the black water lay between Elizabeth and myself? Would I be able to reach her before disaster struck? I told myself that this hunt was no different from all of the others I'd been on. I knew that I would start at Tortuga and make my way around to all of the known pirate ports until I found Elizabeth or received information that would help me find the ship that had attacked us. _

_But this time it was different, my worries nagged at me. When hunting down pirates, you could chase them until you captured them and fought them to a surrender or obliteration. If I didn't find Elizabeth in time, she could be lost to me forever. The thought of never seeing her again aggravated the hollow ache inside my chest. I shook my head, as if to clear my mind and body of these painful contemplations. _

_Fortunately, at that moment my senses were arrested by footsteps approaching me from behind. Turning, I noticed Estrella, Elizabeth's lady's maid moving slowly and a bit uncertainly across the deck towards me. She reached the railing, standing a foot or two from me, maintaining the socially acceptable distance. She lowered shakily into a curtsy, and murmured a low, "Ev'ning Commodore."_

_I was glad of the distraction from my melancholy reflections, and besides, I liked Estrella. I had become familiar with her, as she had chaperoned for Elizabeth and I many times on our outings into the Jamaican countryside. I found her to be a generally cheerful, honest and loyal sort of person, with a real affection for her mistress. She was rather given to gossip, but that seemed to be a vice of all servants, good or bad. She was a year older than Elizabeth, and their proximity in age had formed a sisterly bond between the two girls. Fortunately, Estrella had always liked and trusted me, and had often been persuaded to lose numerous trinkets a good distance from our path; the finding of which could cost several minutes in the company of myself and Elizabeth._

"_Good evening, Miss Estrella. Might I ask what you are doing up and about at this hour? Found yourself a sweetheart among the watch crew have you?" I teased, lightly._

_She smiled. As her face turned into the light I could see that she looked a bit peakish. "I couldn't sleep, sir." She replied. _

"_You look unwell. Seafaring doesn't seem to suit you."_

"_No sir," she agreed weakly, her face suddenly fading to a more pronounced pallor. She passed her hand over her eyes and wavered for a moment, then recovered. I watched her, my arms outstretched, ready to catch her should she indeed faint. She saw my solicitous expression and smiled again. _

"_I've never set a foot off of dry land for a day in me life." She said in explanation._

"_Ah, you don't know what you've been missing," I declared warmly, almost reverently, causing her to fix me with a curious look. "The seasickness will soon pass," I added seriously._

"_It's not that that's bothering me, sir. It's Miss Elizabeth. I just wish--" She stopped, snuffing a little and daintily patting her eyes with the ends of the shawl she was wearing. I instinctively reached into my coat and drew out my handkerchief, a ridiculous frill of lace that I had carried for my ceremony and that seemed out of place here on this deck in the moonlight. She took it, appreciatively. "I'm sorry." She said, calming down again. _

_In those two words I read all of the heartbroken remorse and apprehension that she must have been feeling. I felt I had to say something to comfort her, but I didn't know how. If she'd been a sailor who'd lost a comrade in battle or a pink-faced midshipman who was homesick for his mother I'd know what to say. But to this utterly miserable young maid who was weeping beside me--what was there to say?_

"_Don't feel too badly about it." I said lamely. "I sent a whole detachment of marines to the house, and none of them reported back." I felt the bitterness creep into my voice. "Nothing happened as it should have that night."_

_Silence again, broken here and there by a sniff or two. Then Estrella spoke._

"_Commodore--do you think that Miss Elizabeth is alive?" She turned to look up at me, her brows knit together earnestly, her glassy eyes gently pleading._

"_I do." I said, without thinking. Something told me that Elizabeth was alive. I was sure I would somehow know, somehow feel it if Elizabeth were dead. Estrella smiled up at me gratefully. I returned her smile, feeling heartened. I surged with sudden confidence, feeling as though nothing could stand in the way of my reunion with Elizabeth. _

_What is that foolishness that poets are always writing? 'True love with conquer all'? At that moment, I was willing to believe it. _

"_I'm glad you're going to rescue her. It's so heroic," Estrella declared dreamily. "She's really very fond of you, sir." _

_My heart gave a small leap. "Truly?"_

"_Yes, sir. At least, I think so. I can't always tell what she's thinking or feeling, but she certainly cares for you enough to talk about you a lot."_

_I felt bolstered by Estrella's words. Surely she knew Elizabeth well enough to know whether or not her mistress truly cared for me. That must mean that Elizabeth did care! I felt relieved, not noticing how much the uncertainty had weighed upon me. Silent exaltations fountained within me. Here was confirmation of all of my hopes for Elizabeth. She cared for me! The loveliest, cleverest, truest girl in this whole world--with a heart and soul created with no other purpose but to love--loved me! I closed my eyes, her image fastened there, much closer and attainable than ever before. _

_When she was once again aboard the Dauntless I would propose again. We could have a wedding at sea, as I had always dreamed. I imagined the scene: A sunbathed deck. The crew assembled below as Elizabeth and I stood on the bridge, Captain Lewis's gruff voice presiding happily over the whole scene. Behind Elizabeth, who was a vision in a resplendent white gown, the governor's eyes moistened beneath his braided hat… Then, that evening, in the flickering glow of our candle's light I would finally be able to express to her the depth of my affection, the love that burned within me with a passion just as fierce as her own. The side of me that she had never known, that was every bit as carefree and romantic as that hotheaded young blacksmith. _

_Turner! Why had I suddenly thought of him?! He was not a part of such tender thoughts. Elizabeth cared for me, not for him! I felt a pang as I remembered his foolish shows of affection the morning after the siege. I recalled the heartfelt timbre of his voice as he declared "I'd much rather be here in the garden with you." She had gotten cross with him on that day; and yet he had been there at the house, alone with her. How often did they meet? My heart blazed with jealousy. I felt betrayed. Could Elizabeth have been coquetting with me, receiving my advances and all the while making eyes at that puppy Turner? _

_My anger diffused momentarily, as I realized that Elizabeth hadn't had time to flirt with Turner--Lady Barclay had seen to it that every hour of her day was filled with suitable beaus--and Will Turner was most certainly not among them. I knew Elizabeth had not deceived me with regards to her feelings for me. But my doubts still prickled. _

_Beside me, Estrella stood, staring out at the water and humming a low, sad, tune. I had to ask her. I had to know the truth. _

"_Estrella," I ventured. "does your mistress perhaps--care--for anyone else?"_

_The maid looked at me sideways. "I'm not sure I can say, sir." She replied, enigmatically._

"_Miss Swann has had many suitors. Do you mean to tell me none of them has touched her heart?"_

_Estrella made an indignant noise. "What? Those powdered peacocks that her Ladyship kept 'having for tea'? You should know her well enough, sir, to know that she didn't give a one of them a serious look. Though some of em' tried right enough."_

_I could feel her hesitation. I was sure there was something she wasn't telling me. I had to ask her about Turner._

"_There is one young man who seems most particularly smitten by your mistress's charms." I paused. "Estrella, is your mistress much taken with William Turner?" _

_A look flickered across her face, but in a moment it had disappeared. The remaining glow in her eyes made me suspect that perhaps the lady's maid herself was much taken with the young man in question. She looked away from my steady gaze. Her voice when she spoke was ever so slightly strained, as if she was trying very hard to sound indifferent._

"_She doesn't talk about him much. Not at all, really. And if I ever mention him she gets cross." I thought I heard a hopefulness in her last statement. No wonder she had approved so of my advances towards Elizabeth. But it didn't concern me whether or not Estrella the maid was in love with Will the blacksmith. I wanted to know if Elizabeth the governor's daughter loved anyone other than the commodore that loved her. I opened my mouth to press my inquiry, when Estrella interrupted, a hint peevishly, a bit sadly._

"_She doesn't tell me everything, Commodore." And before I could say another word she bid me a curt goodnight and disappeared below decks._

_I sighed and leaned low over the railing, feeling the tiny sprays of seawater ever so gently splashing against my face. I breathed in the familiar salty scent, and stared down into the rippling waves, as if the answer were hidden there. The longer I stood, the more my worries grew. What if Elizabeth's heart did belong to another? Could I force her to marry me if it did? Fathers and suitors did so all the time, arranging 'marriages of convenience.' My parents had married that way, and so had the Governor and dozens of other couples I knew. But those marriages seemed so cold, not without affection, but without the true warmth and understanding that I wanted in a wife. My wife should be my equal, my companion and partner through every stage of life. She couldn't be truly equal to me if she did not love me--at least a little. _

_There was nothing for it. I would have to ask her. I winced at the thought, but in all honesty I could not make her my bride with something like this hanging over my head. I had seen Turner's infatuation. Could she possibly return his childish passion?_

Eventually, I forced myself to return to my bunk, knowing I would need the rest on the morrow. I lay awake some time, finally letting my thoughts drift into a vivid dream. I saw Elizabeth, standing on the bridge of the Interceptor, talking intimately with Turner. He held one of her delicate white hands in his own and was about to propose. Before he could kneel down I pulled him away from her and performed the task myself. She accepted, but for some reason she was not as ecstatic as she should have been. My dream changed. I was carrying Elizabeth, her arms caught around my neck, smiling beguilingly as I lay her gently upon our marriage bed. I felt her succumbing to my desire, welcoming me with her soft warmth, her lips parted in a smile, her arms enveloping me, a little laugh escaping her lips. I felt blissfully happy, looking down upon her, my wife. I bent to kiss her, and suddenly Turner was there. Her face changed, and suddenly she was staring at me, piercing me with her accusatory glare. She blamed me, as if I had tricked her into marrying me. I called out in anger, reaching for her, trying to make her understand as she fled the room with Turner…

_I awoke, the bitterness of my dream rumbling within me. The ship was waking around me, and I went above to find the Captain. I found him, and was soon sharing breakfast with him and the governor in his cabin. Despite our predicament, Captain Lewis was confident that we would find Elizabeth in time. Before his promotion to captain of the Interceptor, Lewis had run special missions aboard his sloop, the Sweet Elaine. These missions sometimes caused him to be in very close contact with pirates. _

_A jovial and somewhat coarse man, had the Captain not found his calling upon the sea he would likely have become one of your country squires, rusticating with his dogs and ale, leaving his poor wife to languish in an ancient manor while he went out shooting every day. He concurred with my plan, and had a port or two to add to my list of destinations. By the end of breakfast we had a solid plan in place, and all three of us were feeling a deal better._

_--_

_It as my first voyage as a commodore, and it was difficult to restrain myself from doing Captain Lewis's job for him. In fact, I felt sure that I was already stepping in too much. I hovered idly around the ship, lighting more often than I am sure the captain would have liked in his cabin. When he was remonstrating the cook for our burnt porridge at breakfast I was looming over his shoulder, and I fear my presence made the reprimand more harsh than it should have been. Two days into our voyage, a pair of sailors had been found drunk on watch, and I eagerly attended the interrogation and punishment. On our third day, we had nearly reached Tortuga, and both Captain Lewis and I were anxious for my departure from the Dauntless. _

_We arrived at sunset, anchoring the ship a little way out from Tortuga harbor, as there were many known pirates inside. We need not attract attention to ourselves and stir up any unnecessary conflict. Before we went ashore, Captain Lewis, used to missions such as this, provided merchant's dress for us to wear, and I'll admit I was glad to get out of my gaudy commodore's uniform. I had been to Tortuga a handful of times before, as a lieutenant arresting some pirate or other. As a captain, I preferred to wait for the pirates to finish in the town and leave the conflict to the ship's cannons. _

_Our small boat pulled away from the Dauntless, and I shifted the brim of my hat so that it sat low over my eyes, hoping that no one would recognize me. Glancing back at the ship, I saw Governor Swann, silhouetted in the glow of the ships' lanterns. He had voluntarily stayed on board, and served as an authority to keep the sailors from jumping ship and deserting into the many dissolute pleasures that Tortuga had to offer. I sneered at the thought of the over-painted and under-cleansed 'ladies' of Tortuga and wondered how any man could be satisfied with such filth. Yet in London there were several fine houses for gentlemen that pushed the same merchandise. There were even special clubs sporting delicate young boys for those with less conventional tastes. _

_As the glow of the taverns and brothels of the town approached, my thoughts turned to Elizabeth, and I prayed fervently to dispel the dread that I would find those sparkling eyes I loved staring back at me from Tortuga's wretched streets. _

_--_


	17. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

_I felt the familiar scrape of hull on sand as the boat scudded to a halt on Tortuga's shore. Lewis and I were joined by Lt. Palmer, who was the last man to jump from the boat to the shore. Straightening up I could see the masts of dozens of ships, from galleys to sloops, dinghies, and rowboats like ours. Some flew pirate flags, others had merely tied brightly colored strips of fabric to their masts. The few merchants flew proper flags--in the dim light I glimpsed the brilliance of the Spanish flag in the distance and the red white and blue of one or two British standards. _

_My companions and I made our way along the beach, drawn forward by the glowing fires of Tortuga. The red lanterns of the city permeated the darkness, and so did the stench, so that, with the hot humidity of the Caribbean summer I felt as though I were entering a scene from the Inferno. Here Dante certainly would have found plenty of sinners ripe for retribution--the gluttons, the wastrels, the thieves and murderers, and--in abundance--the lustful. The smell of this snake pit I remembered at once from my earlier days--the mingled odor of unwashed bodies, sexuality, rotting food, sour ale, gunpowder, burning wood and human excrement--that got into your nostrils and ruminated there for days, the thought of which still makes my stomach turn. At that moment I had the overwhelming urge to simultaneously vomit and scrub myself to within an inch of my life. I suppressed the instinct and continued to follow Captain Lewis._

_Rivaling the city's hellish aroma was the noise that exploded around us. The population of depraved souls existed as a deafening cacophony of laughter and bawdy remarks, shouts and curses--some of them that even made my sailor's ears prickle momentarily. To this was added the occasional bang of a gun, the splintering crash of broken glass; and in the distance, small explosions and what sounded like cannon shot. _

_Now we were walking along the town's extremely ill kept roads, stepping over prostrate bodies and piles of refuse, dodging staggering drunks, and skirting couples who had not bothered to wait for the convenience of a bed. Gunshots rang out from the balcony of a nearby house, and our party stepped nimbly aside to avoid a falling corpse. _

_Not joining in Tortuga's natural revelry, we were a bit conspicuous, but I hunched my shoulders and set my jaw into what I hoped was a menacing enough grimace to keep passersby from inquiring into our business. Captain Lewis continued to lead, threading his way through the throng towards a large door, above which hung a sign bearing a crude image of a lady in a white gown holding a mug of ale. For those few patrons who could read, the inscription read "The Faithful Bride,"--though, I observed as we drew nearer, none of the ladies sprawling on its doorstep looked either the 'faithful' or the 'bride.' _

_As we passed through the large wooden doors into the tavern, it was hard to say whether the noise lessened or increased. A group of musicians grouped at one end of the room scraped out a lilting tune. The room, lit by several chandeliers and torches hanging above the occupant's heads, was packed with every table that would fit. Around these tables Tortuga's rabble ate, drank, and made very merry. More half-dressed ladies passed among the tables, dropping themselves into potential customer's laps. One long table had been designated as a makeshift gambling house--one end crammed with grizzly looking card players and the other hunched with dice games. _

_Lewis, it turns out, was known to the tavern keeper by an alias. He procured us some ale because it was cheaper than the rum, and passing out the crude mugs, sent us out into the horde with a low "Ok gents, you know what to do."_

_The Faithful Bride was and is the social center of Tortuga, although by my standards it has nothing like society. Scanning the room I could see scrawny ragged boys of thirteen and weathered bent men of eighty, and even the rather rumpled remains of the fine powdered wigs and white stockings of England's scorned nobility. Dark skinned sailors mixed with fair skinned fishermen; merchants mixed with the very pirates they fought against on the high seas--all animosity forgotten in a sea of rum. Everyone who was nothing in Tortuga would be here, and if Elizabeth had passed through the town, someone in this room knew about it. A pretty woman in Tortuga would not go unnoticed--especially if she were on the arm of a noted pirate, I thought grimly. _

_Our plan was to split up and work the room, trying to glean information from these rum pots. Lewis stayed and chatted with the owner. I watched Palmer move over to the gambling table where a few men down on their luck would certainly spill for the chance of another game. Beyond the gambling table there was an older man who sat removed from the general crowd, sipping slowly. He seemed to see everything through his one, keen eye. I made my way over to him, trying to seem as though I was moving to watch the dice games. There was nowhere to sit, so I leaned nonchalantly against a heavy beam, and took a sip from my mug, watching the throws disinterestedly. _

_It had been a long while since I had tasted ale. In my midshipman days I had enjoyed a plentitude of the drink, taking my shore leave with a German named Martin Unger. He knew how to find all the best pubs, and we'd shared some fine ale and beer together. The brown concoction I was drinking, however, was nothing even close to fine ale, and my face pinched as I restrained the urge to spit it out. Swallowing, I forced myself to take another small pull--like a child taking his medicine. I regret to tell you that the taste did not improve with another taste. I gave up on the ale and leaned a bit closer to the cyclopean man, and in the roughest voice that I could manage I growled, "This ale tastes like piss!" _

_I hoped he would respond. I didn't know the rules of engaging a pirate in conversation. (If indeed he was a pirate.) The man ignored my opinion, and took another slow pull on his drink, his eye never moving from the room before him. I tried again._

"_What are you drinking, mate?" _

_He fixed me with a long, grizzly glare and snarled. "Rum. Mate." There was a slight mocking in his tone, underscored by a "leave me the fuck alone." I decided to heed the unspoken command._

_I resorted back to the vile ale, pretending to be interested I the dice game in front of me. I didn't know how to play though, and that made it difficult. I'd never thrown dice, preferring cards. A voyage could get long without the aid of card games, and I'll admit I acquired a knack for winning that followed me into the higher stakes of gentleman's gambling. The downfall was that, at the end of a voyage when all my companions paid me their losses, it was I who must then spend that money to buy them all drinks. _

_I sighed a bit at my failure to get any information yet. Palmer was deep in conversation with a pale and somewhat finely dressed youth from the card end of the table, and Lewis had moved from the tavern-keeper to a barmaid, though perhaps his mid was not completely on his work. I glanced down at the simple clothes I was wearing. What was I doing? This whole idea of Lewis's to go incognito and consort with these dregs was not exactly to my taste. I was willing to do anything to save Elizabeth, but once again the weight of my position became apparent to me. If known, my actions here could become a scandal that could strip me of my commission. What would society say if they knew that Commodore James Norrington was sitting in "The Faithful Bride" drinking rancid ale in the company of the most notorious and immoral souls in the Caribbean? What would Governor Swann say? What would Elizabeth say if she found out? I set my jaw again, telling myself that this was for Elizabeth, and that I would just have to make sure that no one found out. _

_I was about to leave my place on the wall when a rather less painted young lady sidled up to me. Not only was she wearing less makeup than her colleagues, she was wearing more clothing, and actually smelled clean. She was lovely, I will grant her that, but she could not have been more than fifteen. She smiled prettily and leaned in close to plant a kiss on my cheek. I put out a hand to stop her and steered her to a nearby bench that had just emptied, as its inhabitants were engaged in a rather violent dispute. She pouted coquettishly._

"_Aw, Captain, don't you want a kiss?" I froze for a moment, thinking she had noticed me, but then I realized that she must use that form of address with all of her clients. Relaxing, I decided to try to get what information I could out of her. _

"_Now miss--" I started, doing my best to disentangle myself from her long, white arms. She cut me off, cooing. "Come now Captain, wouldn't you like to get to know me better? I'll wager you could fancy me if you gave me half a chance."_

"_Now really miss--I must ask you to control yourself. I was wondering if you could tell me--"_

"_Oh, don't be so serious Captain." She teased, playfully fingering the fine lace cuffs of my shirt that spilled out from beneath my more humble coat. She looked at me thoughtfully. "What's your name, Captain?"_

"_Jim." I answered, though I don't know why. I was supposed to be asking her questions. There was something about her young, innocent eyes that made me stay by her, and listen to what she had to say. I don't know why I didn't despise her--what made her different from the thieves and murderers that I spent my life hunting down--but for some reason all I could do was pity her. _

_She placed a hand on my cheek. "Well Jim," she said warmly, "I like your face. It's a nice face, handsome and honest. In fact, it reminds me of me o--"During this declaration she had been inching ever closer, and before I knew what she was doing she was kissing me forcefully and lustfully on the mouth. _

_I managed to pull her off, my senses restored. With my hands clamped on her shoulders and I shook her once, speaking lowly but firmly. "Now listen, miss, it's not that I'm after, so if you'll kindly refrain from your advances, I'll go seek out some other companion." Se looked contrite, and I thought perhaps I saw a quiver of fear behind those wide green eyes. I stood up to find another wretch to interrogate, but before I could leave she put a hand on my sleeve._

"_Wait, Captain." I sat down. "What is it you want?" She asked it meekly, no longer plying her trade. I was surprised by her solemnity. To show I felt no hard feelings I offered her the remains of my ale, which she drank unaffectedly. _

"_I'm looking for someone." I began, measuring every word. "I was wondering if you knew anyone by the name of Jack Sparrow?" She eyed me again, her gaze resting once again on my elegant cuffs. I felt my face grow hot. I was certain she knew I was not what I appeared. Before she could ask any questions I plunged a be-laced hand into my coat and placed a few shillings on the table. She snatched them up, expertly tucking them somewhere under her skirt--I played the gentleman and did not look. When she had stowed her pay, she turned back to me._

"_I know the Captain alright. Not a working girl in the Caribbean hasn't heard of Jack Sparrow."_

"_Then you've--had dealings--with him?"_

"_Well, of course there's loads of men like to claim they're the Captain. Hoping for half fare or something like that--as if he gets one." She shrugged. "You meet all sorts of swaggering cocks in my profession." _

_Her frankness made me blush. "I see. Would you happen to know where the captain is?"_

_She considered. "No." I nodded, preparing to rise again, but she stopped me. "Hang on, Captain. I can tell ye this. That Captain Barbossa, what used to sail with him on the Black Pearl, he was here two days ago."_

_I leaned forward, interested. "How long did he stay?"_

"_And hour or two. Not long." _

"_Was there a lady with him?"_

"_I didn't see one, but that don't mean he wasn't here for that purpose…" She grinned devilishly. _

_I frowned, unsure of her story. "Have you ever actually seen the Black Pearl?"_

_She looked at me a hint defiantly. "Of course I have. Big ugly ship she is, black sails n' all."_

_I was beginning to think there was a real ship behind the lore. _

"_Are you sure it was the Pearl you saw?"_

"_Doubtin' the ladies' word, are ye Captain?" I looked up to see the source of the inquiry. There stood a tall, somewhat rotund woman in a bright red gown. She was relatively clean as well, and had sharp intelligent looking eyes fixed with a threatening glare that told me I had better not tangle with her. I stood._

"_No m'am. I was merely asking her a few questions." I met her gaze steadily, one hand resting casually on the hilt of my weapon._

_She grunted. "I don't employ my girls to answer impertinent questions all night. Are you going to have her or not, Captain?" I was repulsed and infuriated by the baseness of the question._

"_No." I articulated, the anger seething within me. _

"_Very well then. Suzanne, come with me. Mr. Randolph is asking for you."_

_In a moment they were gone, ending my interview. I watched Suzanne's slender figure disappear through the door and out into the street, my jaw clenched in rage. Pray god that Elizabeth was not being offered up but one of these brothel mothers to be "had." My spirits did not soon restore, and I felt that I did not have the patience to do any more interrogation. I found a corner chair, planted myself in it, and waited for my companions to finish their inquiries. _

_--_

_Later, in the light of the Captain's cabin, we shared our discoveries._

_Palmer's white faced young gambler was the disgraced son of an earl. He had rambled on endlessly for the chance at more gambling money, but amongst all of his other gossip he did mention that it was rumored that there was a uncommonly beautiful French whore on board the Pearl, and wasn't Barbossa a lucky man. I wanted to punch the Lt. when he recounted this, but at least I had hope that Elizabeth was alive. I hoped there was as much truth to the whore part of the rumor as there was to the French part of the rumor. Palmer's nobleman also confirmed that Barbossa had been in port about two days ago, and that a British navy ship had been spotted in the harbor but a day hence and then disappeared by midday. We guessed this must mean the interceptor._

_I admitted a bit shamefacedly that I had little to add to Palmer's findings. Captain Lewis chuckled a little._

"_I saw you got mixed up with one of Madame Phoebe's girls. She owns a brothel called The Blushing Nun. Her sister runs a midwifery across the street, so she knows a thing or two about hygiene. Bit of an eccentric, she has her girls bathe weekly, and all of her clients must be given a bath before they can fulfill their contracts. Not a woman that you'd want to cross, James." I was not nearly as amused as the Captain was. I couldn't help remarking the irony of having a brothel across the street from a midwifery, or the fact that a brothel should make its customers bathe when even the nobility of England weren't accustomed to the habit. I also could not help wondering how Captain Lewis knew so much about the Madame's business. _

_While Palmer and I had come up relatively short, Lewis was far more skilled in dealing with pirates and the like, and he was able to ascertain that not only had Barbossa been in Tortuga, but Jack Sparrow had showed up at the Faithful Bride with a handsome youth, looking for one Joshamee Gibbs. _

"_Mr. Gibbs?" I'm not sure why I was surprised. _

"_Yes. Deserted a few years ago. Still hangs round the taverns though, telling tales and ghost stories to whoever'll listen." _

_Palmer seemed lost._

"_Bosun on the Endurance, my first post as Lieutenant. Good seaman--bit too attached to his rum though." I explained._

"_I believe he was to be flogged for drunken and disorderly conduct and deserted to escape the lash." Lewis chimed in. "He was a pirate before he joined the service. Used to sail with Sparrow and Barbossa and the lot of them."_

"_Why did he join the navy then, sir?" Palmer asked._

"_I'm not sure, now that you mention it." Lewis admitted. "Anyway, we know that Sparrow came to find him. Most likely looking for a crew. Pete says they were mentioning the Black Pearl often, from what he could hear."_

"_And who, might I ask, is Pete?" I inquired condescendingly. The Captain pretended not to notice my tone. _

"_Young lad, works for the barkeep. Keeps a sharp ear out. I've used him before."_

"_I see. And according to him Sparrow and Gibbs were talking of the Black Pearl."_

"_It's real then?" Palmer blurted. I wanted to ask the same thing. _

"_The Black Pearl? Oh yes, it's real as you or me. I've seen her a few times, even done battle with her wicked guns." I couldn't conceal my look of astonishment. The Captain noted it. "Of course, not all the tales you've heard are true, Commodore." _

_Lewis was an honorable man, and so often did legend have a kernel of truth in it that I decided once and for all that the Black Pearl must be a real ship. Little did I know then the depths of superstition and lore that I would come to know and believe in. Captain Lewis finished his report by stating that while his contacts didn't know where the Pearl and her crew were headed, the Interceptor had left port heading southeast. I stepped out onto the bridge and gave the order to set course in the same direction, and by the dim light of the dwindling moon the Dauntless slipped from Tortuga harbor and out into the open sea._

_--_

Author's Note: Sorry this has been so long coming! My parents were going out of the country for a while so I wanted to spend time with them before they left, but now they are gone I have no qualms in locking myself in my room with my laptop. I've always loved Tortuga in the films (and was disappointed we didn't get there in AWE), and historically I think it is a fascinating place. Sort of the gathering place for all of the lost souls of the colonial world. So many faces and each with a story of how he or she fell. I really enjoyed writing Tortuga in this chapter and I can't wait to write Norrington's fall.


	18. Chapter 17

-1Author's Note: This whole chapter is pretty much a digression. I haven't written in a while, so I just decided to start writing and see where I went. And this is what came out. This chapter is very Will-heavy. And a bit angst-ridden, so I apologize in advance.

ALSO--I want to apologize for the gap between my updates. School happened and classes are kicking my ass right now, so no promises on when I'll get another chapter up. Please bear with me and I promise I'll continue ASAP!

Thanks to Nytd for the joke. Check out her Barbossa fics over at her profile. They are quite brilliant--funny, heartfelt, realistic, clever, insightful and romantic even! If anyone has any other good nautical jokes feel free to share and I'll add them at the end of this chapter!

The Will-Norrington scene is for And MY Hat Enterprises. Enjoy.

**Chapter Seventeen**

Captain Will Turner yawned and glanced at the pocket watch that lay open on his desk. He scooped it up and tilted the lid so that he could see the tiny words engraved there: _To the pirate who has stolen my heart. With love--Elizabeth. _He smiled, remembering the hot September afternoon when he had received the precious trinket of love. Elizabeth and Lady Barclay had gone out shopping for all manner of wedding accoutrements, and Will had thanked his lucky stars that he had avoided being dragged along.

"For no man can truly call himself a gentleman until he has a thorough knowledge of laces." Lady Barclay had insisted the Monday before when the subject of the outing had arisen. "Lord Fontleigh went round to every shop and tailor with his Maria before they were married. No detail of the proceedings escaped his notice. He is a true gentleman." She made little attempt to hide her sneer. She was not at all pleased with Elizabeth's choice of husband.

The captain smirked at his recollections. He could not imagine Elizabeth being married to Fontleigh. He would soon have learned he could not control her with his wealth as he did the rest of the world, and he would have been lucky if she had not run away within a month of the wedding.

"But they are gone to England now to visit his mother so I suppose it is no use dwelling on them." Lady Barclay's voice broke into Will's memory again. He heard her sighing heavily, as if there were still some chance of his Lord marrying Elizabeth instead of this _blacksmith_.

The shopping venture had been agreed on, and they had gone into dinner. As they passed through the large gilt doors that led into the dining room, Governor Swann had leaned towards him conspiratorially and muttered "Another excuse to spend my money on silliness." Will responded with a small smile before taking his place next to Elizabeth.

The afternoon of the excursion Will was working in his shop, as usual, when the door opened, pouring sunlight into the dusty chamber. He had turned to see Elizabeth, standing in the doorway smiling her dazzling smile, clutching a small package in her hands. She stepped forward, daintily lifting her skirts out of the dust of the shop's crude earthen floor. Will watched her, marveling at the grace in her movements, enchanted by her whole frilled and perfumed being. She laughed at him playfully, and in his mind Will could still remember the music in her voice.

"I'm going to be very wicked and ask you to kiss me Mr. Turner." She declared mischievously.

"What of your shopping expedition?" Will asked, when he had come up for breath, having done his best not to smudge or rumple her dress, and failed miserably.

"I've sneaked away from Lady Barclay for a few minutes. She's too busy flirting with the snuff-merchant. Oh--I got you something." She thrust her package forward.

Will took the small package, peeling the cloth wrapping away from a small wooden box. Elizabeth watched him expectantly as he lifted the lid, to reveal a gleaming silver pocket-watch.

"Open it." She whispered.

He did, smiling as he read the inscription. He looked up, his eyes wide with affection and perhaps too much desire for an unmarried man. He leaned forward and kissed her again, slowly and tenderly. Then he pulled away, his face still close to hers.

"You don't have to buy me presents." He said, in a low voice.

"I know." She replied in the same low tones. "I wanted to." He went to kiss her again but she pulled away playfully. "It'll assure that you aren't late to your own wedding Mr. Turner!" With that she floated to the door, looking back and winking at him once before she vanished from sight to join Lady Barclay again.

Will reluctantly pulled himself out of his reveries. He thought a little bitterly that there hadn't really been a wedding to be late for. His fist clamped around the watch, clicking it closed. He rose and tucked it into the pocket in his waistcoat, trying to ignore the hollow ache in his chest. He was struck again by the gloomy loneliness of the ship's cabin. At that moment it was also quite stuffy, and he moved to the window and pulled it open. A clear tenor voice was wafting over the deck. Its song was low and sad, and Will felt at that moment how much the words were his own.

"I'm goin' away to leave you love…I'm goin' away for a while. But I'll return to you sometime if I go ten thousand miles…"

Will sighed, leaning against the windowsill and feeling the cool ocean breeze break over his face. He thought for the thousandth time about his predicament. Ten years was a long time. Had it been fair of him to ask Elizabeth to wait? He looked out over the glassy water and wondered what she was doing.

"…Who's gonna shoe your pretty little feet? And who's gonna glove your hand? Who's gonna kiss your red rosy lips while I'm in a foreign land…?" The singer asked of his sweetheart.

Will felt the rock in his chest grow even heavier. How he missed Elizabeth! 'This is ridiculous' he told himself. He straightened a bit violently. He was determined not to sit and mope. In two strides he was at his wine cabinet, grabbing a bottle and two crude wooden cups.

He marched below-decks to where the crew slept, hoping to find Mr. Turner. There was still a lot of bonding to do there, and Will hoped that sharing a bottle with his dad would take his mind off of his maudlin thoughts. When he ducked through the doorway he was disappointed. None of the crew slept, being immortal, but now they were huddled around an overturned crate engaged in an intense-looking game of cards. Bootstrap looked up from his hand.

"Captain! How be ye on a fair night like this?" He was in good humor, as he had secured quite a pile of coins and other valuable trinkets over the course of the game and seemed ready to do so yet again.

"Me? I'm grand." Will remarked with feigned joviality. Noone seemed to notice his gloomy spirits.

"Care to join us Cap'n?" Asked a grizzly voice.

Will exchanged a look with his father.

"No lads, you go on and play. I was just--checking in." Will said lamely, ducking out. He hard the laughter on the other side of the door and wished he could be as jolly as his crew. He turned to climb to the main deck, feeling the weight in his chest return at the thought of the dark empty cabin and the long lonely hours of the night.

--

Admiral James Norrington was bent low over his page, his quill scratching along at a steady pace, the ink staining his fingernails and making him look very much a bookkeeper's apprentice, when he heard three small taps on his cabin door. His brow furrowed in surprise. He dipped his quill in his inkpot yet again.

"Enter." He called.

The door opened, and he looked up into the weary face of Will Turner.

"Evening Captain."

"Good Evening Admiral Norrington. I know this is a bit…unexpected. I thought you might like a drink." Will felt his face flush a little at the awkwardness of the situation. Asking the former Admiral to dinner was one thing. Invading his cabin in the dead of night was another--immortal or not.

Norrington finished his sentence and looked up at the younger man standing in the narrow doorway. He could see under the handsome unaffected countenance a slight anxiety. Norrington at once felt his full 36 years, and the former commander in him felt it his duty to offer what comfort he could to the man.

"Thank you, Captain. Please, sit down." He replied, snatching up a stack of papers from his bunk so that Will would have a space to sit.

"How is your work coming?" Will asked conversationally, opening the wine and handing a wooden cup to his companion.

"It's coming." Norrington replied. "I've just been writing about our search for Elizabeth."

Will smiled ruefully. "I've been missing her so much tonight." He said tentatively, trying not to whine, and watching to see how the Admiral would react.

Norrington was surprised by the confession, but only for a moment. He reached over and poured himself a glass of the wine. Very matter-of-factly he said. "Yes, she has a tendency to produce that effect."

Will looked at him, and then a laugh exploded from him, and soon both of the men were laughing, loud and full, as they had not for many months.

Will sighed, leaning back against the cabin wall and stretching his arms wide. "It feels good to laugh again."

"Yes." James agreed. The awkwardness disappeared with the laughter and the coupled with the freedom that comes only in the darkness of the middle of the night allowed the two men to fall into free and easy conversation. For a while they told jokes back and forth.

"Here's one I learned during my first week as midshipman." Norrington began, sipping at his wine. "Captain was prating on about navigation or some such rot. Anyway, my mate Charlie told me this joke and I laughed out loud and was caught. Captain stationed me in the crow's nest for an hour. First time I'd ever climbed the rigging. I was scared stiff. He left me there till dinner. It rained and when I came down I was not only wet but I was sick as a dog." Norrington chuckled. Will laughed with him.

"And the joke?"

"Ah yes. 'A young naval student was being put through the paces by an old sea captain. 'What would you do if a sudden storm sprang up on the starboard?' 'Throw out an anchor, sir,' the student replied. 'What would you do if another storm sprang up aft?' 'Throw out another anchor, sir.' 'And if another terrific storm sprang up forward, what would you do then?' asked the captain. 'Throw out another anchor, sir.' 'Wait a minute, seaman' said the captain. 'Where are you getting all those anchors from?' 'From the same place you're getting your storms, sir.'" Will chuckled appreciatively.

"I could only picture the exchange between myself and Captain Carriger, and I couldn't help but laugh." Norrington explained.

Once all the jokes and three quarters of the bottle of wine had been used up, the talk turned to more serious subjects.

"Thank you for sharing that drink with me, Admiral. I just couldn't spend another minute in that gloomy cabin."

"It is a bit of a cave isn't it?"

Will smiled. "I guess for Jones that was appropriate." He brought his hand up to his chin and wriggled his fingers like tentacles.

Norrington grinned. Will continued.

"And I miss Elizabeth. It seems childish I guess, but she's never seemed so far away before. We _are_ quite intimately connected." Will tapped himself on the chest. Under his linen shirt was the scar that marked where he had cut out his heart, the heart that Elizabeth now kept with her.

"Yes--I've heard the story. But you can't always give credence to what marines say."

Will raised his eyebrows. "How did you hear?"

Norrington shrugged. "Every superstitious soldier loves a good story. News travels fast among the dead."

The younger man's brow furrowed thoughtfully. "Well, you probably know the basics. I was on the Dutchman, when we boarded her that day. Not thinking, just fighting for my life and hoping to god Elizabeth and I would survive. Before I knew it there was a sword in my belly and I was fading fast. I remember pain, then everything going black. I remember hearing Elizabeth's voice and thinking how cold her hands were on my face…I was aware of something rough on my hand and then the sensation of my arm falling…Jack had helped me stab the heart of Davy Jones, and you know what comes next."

"'The Dutchman must have a captain.'" Norrington recited.

Will nodded. "The next thing I remember was surrounded by water--but alive. I'd become Captain. So here I am."

"So now you have to keep to the whole one day ashore part."

"Yes." Will grimaced. "That's the worst part of it. I have to wait ten years until I see her again."

"If it makes you feel any better, I will _never_ see her again." It was said without any bitterness, but a bit sadly.

Will was silent for a moment.

"I can't imagine what it would be like to lose Elizabeth. I'm sorry I had to be the one to take her from you."

Norrington looked grave, remembering the hellish night he had spent after losing Elizabeth forever. "It wasn't something I'd relish reliving."

Will watched as the Admiral slipped back into his thoughts. He cursed himself inwardly, feeling all the walls between the them raise again. He rose, collecting the almost empty bottle and the cups.

"Thank you for the evening Admiral. I will leave you to your work." With that he left the brooding Norrington, muttering angrily to himself all the way back to his cabin.

--


	19. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen**

_The next day passed with no sign of sail nor rudder, and it seemed that we might be the only vessel in the Caribbean Sea. I spent the long empty hours prowling the deck, urging the ship to go faster, urging the wind to blow harder, urging Elizabeth to be nearer. In a way I never had before, I felt as though the ship were a prison, as though the slowness of the ship would condemn me to a life without wife or love or life. By mid-afternoon it began to rain, driving me into Captain Lewis's cabin. I think perhaps I was the last person he wanted to see at that moment, but without showing too many signs of annoyance he closed the ledger in which he was scrawling and offered me a cup of tea. _

_I took it, and sat down facing him. _

"_Good-day Commodore." A pause. "The governor is not feeling well and has confined himself below-decks." I frowned. I realized guiltily that I had not even noticed his absence._

"_I hope he is soon feeling better." I said, with genuine concern._

"_Yes. Well his wilted spirits are not in his favor, but he should be himself tomorrow I expect." _

"_Still no sign of the Interceptor or the Pearl." I remarked flatly._

"_Give it time. We'll catch up to her yet." Lewis responded. I knew as well as he did that it could take up to three days to find a ship you were tracking, more when the weather was foul, but I didn't care. I was restless, and I ached to be with Elizabeth. _

_The Captain watched my face as these thoughts passed through my mind. _

"_We could put in at another port, sir. Question a few more witnesses. May give us more clues." He suggested._

_I set down my teacup a bit harshly. "No. If we stop we will waste time. We have to reach Elizabeth before anything happens to her."_

_Lewis looked as though he wanted to say something, but when he opened his mouth, all he said was "Aye, Commodore."_

_We finished our tea in silence, and then I rose and stalked out into the now pouring rain. I stood, feeling the cold water weigh down my clothes, watching raindrops spill over the brim of my hat and spatter against the deck. I don't know how long I stood like that, looking out at the rain-blurred world, and imagining how wonderful it would be to slip below into a warm dry cabin to find Elizabeth waiting in my bunk. To spend the night wrapped in her soft fragrant embrace, listening to her shallow breaths, knowing she was safe and with only me…_

_--_

_When I next awoke I was lying in my bunk, and instead of Elizabeth, Estrella was sitting on a low stool next to me darning a pair of striped stockings. She looked up when she saw my eyes flutter open._

"_Commodore--How are you feeling?" she asked anxiously._

_In response, I sat up slowly, my head throbbing dully. I felt stifled and hot, and my skin tingled with fever. I shivered involuntarily, which made my companion spring up from her seat and gently push me back down onto my back. Then she reached into a bucket at her feel and drew out a wet cloth. Wringing it out, she placed it on my forehead, which blazed in fiery protest. She took another cloth and gently swabbed around my neck and along my chest and arms, which I faintly realized were bare. I closed my eyes, feeling the refreshing sharpness of the water and the weariness of the fever. As she worked, Estrella spoke slowly and soothingly._

"_There now, sir. We'll have you right again in no time. Gone and taken a fever--and it's no wonder too, standing out in the rain like you did." she scolded gently._

_I smiled wearily and allowed myself to sink back into my vivid dreams. _

_Whatever else she was, Estrella was a good nurse. Whenever I awoke she was there, ready to force meals down my throat or answer my fevered questions about our progress. Another day passed and we did not catch sign of any ships. I lay in fever for that whole day and part of the next. I drifted through a series of tangled dreams, featuring myself and Elizabeth, and at times Turner and a few darker subjects. I was vaguely conscious of Captain Lewis's presence, and I recall hearing Governor Swann's voice through my delirium._

_Miraculously, I awoke midmorning on the second day, my head still swimming groggily, the fever gone. Estrella was there, smiling down at me._

"_I'm no doctor Commodore," she said warmly, "but I think you're cured."_

_I sat up slowly, smiling back at her. "Thank you, Estrella." I said hoarsely. She merely rose shyly and murmured something about letting me dress before disappearing above decks. Looking down I realized I was in nothing but my trousers. I rose, stretching my stiff limbs and climbing into a fresh pair of trousers, a clean shirt and the rest of my Commodore's finery. _

_--_

_By lunchtime I was feeling much better, the better for the fresh sea air, but tired and still a bit stiff, and, I recall, ravenously hungry. After lunch Governor Swann suggested I go below decks and rest a little more. The Captain adamantly supported this plan, remarking that I need not slip back into sickness after just recovering. In truth I think he merely wanted to enjoy a few more hours free of my brooding command. I returned to the deck a few hours later, feeling almost as though I had never been ill. My swift recovery even helped to bolster my spirits and I felt serenely optimistic as I stood by the helmsman, scanning the horizon with my glass for any signs of the elusive Interceptor. What I saw was far better. _

_At first I paid no heed to the blur of smoke at the starboard horizon. It was not a white sail, nor a fluttering flag, and I was seeking a ship, not a bonfire. As I continued my search, the blur grew into a puff, and then a cloud, and I was struck with the horrible fear that it did indeed belong to a ship--the ship that Elizabeth was on. My stomach knotted once again. Would I have come this far, be so close to rescuing Elizabeth only to find her charred carcass among the floating debris of the Black Pearl? My fist clapped down hard on the helmsman's shoulder, making him jump._

"_Sailor, make for that cloud of smoke." I commanded him anxiously. _

_He nodded warily and adjusted the wheel accordingly. I stood beside him, impatient as the billowing black cloud grew ever nearer. Captain Lewis climbed onto the bridge to join us, pulling out his own telescope to see what the fuss was about. We were closing fast, and soon I saw that the smoke was not coming from a ship, but from the shoreline that began to creep up in front of us. My heart leapt hopefully and just as quickly sank. Elizabeth was on board the Pearl, somewhere out at sea. This was not her. I felt the bitterness of my disappointment even as my nose filled with the acrid smell of burning wood. I raised my telescope once again, hoping in vain that I would see a ship moored near the beach. My lens skimmed along the shoreline and then stopped as I caught sight of a figure. A figure standing on the beach clad in white waving two long slender arms-- Elizabeth._

_I felt the relief wash over me, coupled with a silent rejoicing and a boyish excitement. My heart quickened its pace. It seemed so long since we had last spoken. And she was alive! Alive and well and soon she would be my wife! In the back of my mind a doubt flitted by as to her chastity, having been in the company of pirates, but I pushed it away, basking in the joy of Elizabeth's discovery, feeling her presence growing ever nearer. I watched her through my telescope, her hair ablaze with sunlight, her lips parted in a greeting, her arms outstretched to welcome her rescuers._

_In my raptures I forgot to summon the Governor, but Lewis did and soon he was by my side. I heard him breathe an urgent "Thank God" from behind the Captain's telescope._

_At last we reached water that was too shallow for the ship to go any further. The boats were lowered, and Governor Swann and I were in the very first. I half stood in the boat, ready to spring onto the beach as soon as the hull struck sand. I couldn't wait even that long, splashing through the waist deep water to where Elizabeth stood, waiting. Forgetting propriety I flung my arms about her, feeling the exhilaration of her slender form inside my arms, delighting in the way her hair blew across my face, inexpressibly happy. I was seized by the impulse to shower her with kisses, and never let her go. I felt a lump rise in my throat as I pulled myself away from her, sinking back into the polite world. She barely had time to be embarrassed by my forwardness before the Governor was holding her, both of them crying a little as he thanked god repeatedly for her safety and she assured him profusely that she was well. As I watched this happy reunion, I beamed inwardly to see the two creatures I loved most so very happy. My chest swelled and the lump grew larger as my mind kept repeating a single blissful thought "She is safe. Elizabeth is safe."_

Author's Note: Ack! So what's it been like, 10 years since I last updated? I am so very sorry and continue to be uncertain when my next chapter will be up, but hopefully very soon! Thank you for bearing with me!

P.S. FYI last week a 5 year relationship that was very serious ended for me so I apologize if any undue melancholy works its way into my next few chapters. (More melancholy than James is usually, lol.) In case you are wondering, I am doing ok, taking it each day at a time and keeping busy. J


	20. Chapter 19

-1**Chapter Nineteen**

_Finally the Governor released his daughter, stepping back and dabbing at his eyes with a large handkerchief. Elizabeth turned to me, her eyes sparkling defiantly._

"_I knew you'd come when you saw the signal."_

"_I'm surprised you were able to create such a large one," I remarked, eyeing the still burning heap of trees and crates. "What is all that?"_

"_Rum mostly." Elizabeth said triumphantly, tossing her head a little. _

_I raised my eyebrows, and in response she explained._

"_Apparently this is a rum-running island."_

_It was Captain Lewis who spoke. "Ah yes. I thought we might have come far enough South to be in 'o Rio de Vida.'"_

"_What does that mean?" Elizabeth asked, curious as always._

"'_O Rio de Vida;' 'The River of Life.'" I translated for her. "It's a route that uses a series of islands in this area as bases. I hadn't realized it before, but I've spent several weeks here, hunting pirates."_

_Elizabeth's countenance shifted. Something told me she'd formed some new ideas about pirates after spending a few days on a ship with them. _

"_But how is it you happen to be here, Miss Swann?" Lewis asked. I had been wondering the same thing._

_Elizabeth opened her mouth to speak, but it was not her voice that answered. _

"_That is an excellent question." I knew the voice even before I spied its owner. My jaw clenched involuntarily and my hand went immediately to my sword-hilt, even as my whole being filled with and intense disgust. _

_Beyond Elizabeth, leaning languorously against one of the remaining trees on the beach was the man who I despised as I did no other being on this earth: Captain Jack Sparrow. In a flash my sword was out of its scabbard, glinting in the late-afternoon sun. In two strides I was in front of Elizabeth, shielding her from any more attempts on her life. _

_As I watched, my rage growing every second, his lips parted into a lazy sneer. He was silently laughing at me, laughing to see his affect on my self control, laughing at the memory of our last encounter and the humiliation he had caused me. _

_He spread his arms wide, prancing over to our group._

"_Commodore. It is indeed an honor to see your smiling face again, " He taunted me._

_My face could not have been any further from a smile. I was gritting my teeth so hard that my jaw was beginning to complain. _

"_And what might you be doing on my island, eh? Come to join the fun?" He threw a lewd glance at Elizabeth and grinned at me conspiratorially. Behind me, Elizabeth exhaled indignantly, and Governor Swann exploded._

"_How dare you! I'll see you hanged, Sparrow!" He began to sputter, losing his words in his anger. He did manage to dash out--"Irons! Now!" But none of the men on the beach had brought any irons. We had expected only to rescue an angel, not to meet this devil. _

_I closed the short distance between the pirate and I and grabbed the dirty shirt, pulling Sparrow closer until my blade rested dangerously at his throat. _

"_If you have harmed or compromised Elizabeth in any way--I swear I will kill you." I spoke dangerously low, so that only he could hear my words. His laughing eyes looked back at me, undaunted. His unwillingness to take my threat seriously enraged me even more, and I drew my sword back to strike, letting him go in the process. Before I knew it he had drawn his own sword, and our blades clanged together, shattering the silence of the idyllic beach. _

"_Stop!" Elizabeth shrieked at us. "James, please stop! Whatever he's said it's not true! I'm perfectly alright. We're all safe now! He saved my life remember? You can't kill him! Please--James!" We both paused for a moment. Then with a final cry I swung at him, knocking his sword into the sand. The next moment he was being constrained by two pairs of arms and dragged to a boat. _

_There was a lingering silence over the whole company, broken only by Elizabeth's small murmured "Thank You" as I helped her climb into one of the boats. _

_The silence lasted until we climbed aboard the Dauntless. The moment Elizabeth set foot on the deck, Estrella cried out joyously, and rushed to welcome her mistress, tearfully babbling apologies and asking a dozen questions at once. Elizabeth could not help laughing, and watching the two girls' bubbly reunion helped diffuse the awkwardness. _

_While the two were still chatting excitedly, Captain Lewis approached me. _

"_Now that we've rescued the lass, we'll head back to Port Royal?" It was an interesting mix between a suggestion and a question. _

"_Aye. I've some business that was interrupted that I should like to complete as soon as possible." I glanced at Elizabeth._

_Lewis smiled. Then cheerfully he said, loud enough that the crew could hear him, "Right you are Commodore! Lads, make for home!"_

_Elizabeth heard him too, and the smile fell from her face._

"_But we've got to save Will!" She protested, turning towards me. "He's still on the Pearl!"_

"_No!" The Governor said, with the practiced air of a father used to dealing with an impulsive daughter. "We will return to Port Royal immediately, not go gallivanting after pirates." He admonished her._

"_Then we condemn him to death!" Elizabeth spat at him._

"_The boy's fate is regrettable." The governor said coolly. "But so was his decision to engage in piracy."_

'_Will Turner can go to the devil for all I care,' I thought candidly, listening to the exchange. _

"_To rescue me! To prevent anything from happening to me!" Elizabeth was rounding on her father._

_I prayed he would not give in to her demands. Then the decision would not be mine. I guiltily realized that I wanted Turner gone so I could have Elizabeth to myself. _

"_If I may be so bold as to project my personal opinion, " Sparrow piped up, somehow free of his guards, "the Pearl was listing near to scuppers after the battle. It's very unlikely she'll be able to make good time. Think about it. The Black Pearl. The last real pirate threat in the Caribbean, mate. How can you pass that up, eh?"_

_I was in no humor to hunt down any ship right now, Pearl or not. I just wanted to marry Elizabeth before she slipped through my fingers again. Besides, I was not about to take suggestions from this rum-soaked bastard. I was felt sure he was trying to lead me into a trap, and I was not going to be made a fool by him again._

"_By remembering that I serve others, Mr. Sparrow, not only myself." I felt suddenly weary, realizing with another wave of guilt that contrary to my statement, I was acting on completely selfish motives. As I turned away to climb toward the bridge, Elizabeth tried again._

"_Commodore I beg you please do this. For me. As a wedding gift." _

_Her words froze me on the stair. My heart leapt a little and started fluttering nervously. I turned to look at her, and I thought I could see a glimmer of affection in those wide brown eyes. I didn't speak, a dozen thoughts racing through my mind. Why was she doing this? Did she truly care for me? Or was it Turner? Why did she want me to save him? But she would not marry me unless she loved me. I knew she could not marry where she did not love. Then she must love me! But why did she want me to rescue Turner? Why could we not marry and be done with it. I still felt as though having Turner around would be dangerous, and the shadow of my nightmares still haunted me. As I looked down upon her, she replied to her father's inquiry as to whether or not she was accepting my proposal. _

"_I am." she said softly, and I could only imagine those same lips forming into a soft "I do." Images passed fleetingly through my mind, our wedding, our wedding night, Elizabeth being mine to have and to hold, always near me, sharing my dreams, bearing my children. I knew at once that I would do anything to have her._

_Sparrow's babbling broke into my thoughts. Did he never shut up?!_

"_Mr. Sparrow." I addressed him sternly. "You will accompany these fine men--I waved to the marines guarding him--to the helm and provide them with the bearing to the Pearl's destination*. You will then spend the rest of the voyage contemplating all possible meanings of the phrase 'silent as the grave.' Do I make myself clear?"_

_He muttered something, and was then roughly dragged up onto the bridge._

"_Commodore," The governor approached me. "I must question the wisdom of this."_

"_With all due respect, Governor, Mr. Turner is a subject of the British crown and therefore under my protection." He heard what I was not saying, the look in my eyes that said 'please let me do this for Elizabeth.' The look that he shared, that meant that we both understood that there was something about this headstrong young woman that made us do anything for her. Even something as foolish as we were about to do._

_He smiled, knowingly. "Rightly so." _

_He added. "Take care of her."_

_As he walked past, I turned to Elizabeth, standing near the railing looking contemplative, the simple cotton gown she was wearing clinging becomingly to her slender form, her face smudged and dirty, her hair loose and wild. I thought to myself that she looked something like a Cinderella, and I was to be her prince charming. My heart quickened its pace at the thought. Elizabeth was going to be my wife! I felt like shouting it to the heavens. My darling Elizabeth, this sweet, independent, passionate girl was going to be mine! _

"_Elizabeth?" I put out my arm and she took it. I strolled a few steps with her towards the railing. Through my rejoicing, I noticed that she did not share my elation. I didn't know what to say._

"_I'm concerned that your answer was, perhaps, less than sincere." I wanted to kick myself. I didn't know what to say and so I chose to reveal to her my doubts? She had said yes! Shouldn't I trust her? I chided myself for it, and for letting Turner weasel his way into my happy moment. _

"_I would not give my word lightly." She replied, though with less warmth than I should have liked. Oh well, that would come in time. I would make her love me. If only it were not for Turner._

"_Yes I know. But is it so wrong that I should want it given unconditionally?" I hoped that this might make her reconsider her request, that we could forget all of this, and that with turner out of her life, I could force him out of her heart as she realized how deep and how pure my love for her was. _

"_It is not a condition, it is a request." She retorted, and I feared that she might be growing angry with me again. "Your answer would not change mine." She added resolutely. Her voice changed, and with real warmth she looked at me and said "You are a fine man, James."_

_And in those sparkling eyes I forgot all of my doubts and insecurities. My heart constricted suddenly and I felt as though I couldn't breathe. "Well." I breathed at last. "Very well. Excellent." Those few words were nowhere near what I was feeling, and yet they had to do, because at that moment I was hailed from the bridge. As I was turning away, Elizabeth put a hand on my arm._

"_Commodore?" I looked back at her. She smiled rather devilishly. "Might I trouble you for something to wear?" I couldn't help laughing. _

"_Lieutenant! Find Miss Swann something to wear!" _

_I spent the next hour discussing navigational matters with Captain Lewis, but all the while my mind was more agreeably engaged in thoughts that would make my new father in law blush were he to discover them. _

__________________________________________________________________________

Authors Note: Yay! Another chapter! By all accounts I should not have taken the time to write this tonight. But I sat down at my computer and this just came out. I know it's a bit of an abrupt ending to the chapter, and I'll probably go back and edit it soon, but I don't have my DVD with me and I don't know the deleted scene well enough to write that part but I figured you'd rather have what I've got than have to wait.

Poor James. No wonder he hates Jack. Every time Norrington's around Jack goes out of his way to piss him off.

An interesting note about the swordfight is--I can't figure if Jack even has a sword on the island. When they throw his pistol overboard it's strapped to his scabbard and sword (I think), but then later it doesn't show him having it. I decided to let him have it, because otherwise I'm pretty sure James would have killed him then and there. Lol.

Oh and about the Portuguese. I just used . If anyone knows that it is wrong and can correct me, please do!

*I don't know when James was supposed to find out that the Pearl was headed for Isla de Muerta. So I had to change the line.

BTW--I probably won't update until after Friday so HAPPY HALLOWEEN everybody! Just for fun, why not tell me what your costume is going to be? I love Halloween costumes! I'm going to be Columbina. Anyone who can tell me who or what that is gets some sort of a written favor in the story. I'm not sure what, but we'll think of something.

Also, thanks to Damsel in Stress for her lovely reviews. Welcome aboard, mate!


	21. Chapter 20

-1**Chapter Twenty**

_With Elizabeth on board my life slipped back into the calm normality I so cherished. I spent every moment I could in her company, leaving Captain Lewis to do his job unhindered by my tedious command. The day and half it took us to get to Isla de Muerta contained some of the happiest moments I have ever spent, showing Elizabeth around the ship, teaching her all I knew, delighted at her interest in seafaring life. The Governor watched from a distance, and when I looked back at him from where Elizabeth was letting the green water spray her as we glided along, or down at him from where the helmsman was teaching her to steer the ship, I thought that I had never seen him so happy. The realization that I was bringing him such joy made me doubly happy. _

_These blissful hours were only blackened by Elizabeth's occasional mood swings. Every now and then I saw a shadow cross behind her laughing eyes, and I constantly felt the gnawing doubt about her affection for Turner. I hoped desperately that what the Governor had said was true--that I could make her love me in time. _

_On the evening of the second day, when we were not more than two hours from our destination, I came upon Elizabeth in a corner of the ship, crying. She had left our dinner, remarking that she needed some fresh air. When she had not returned I had gone to seek her and assure her rather nervous (and rightly so) father that she was well. Her back was turned to me, but I could hear her heartbroken sobs and see her graceful figure quivering slightly in the moonlight. I was struck to the core, bewildered at the cause of her sorrow, every particle of my being wanting to do anything to stop her pain. _

_I closed the distance between us, wanting to enfold her in an embrace that would block out all of her troubles. Instead, I reached out a hand and placed it as gently as I could on her shoulder. She continued to cry for a few moments._

"_Elizabeth." I breathed her name, edging closer until I could almost bury my face in her fragrant hair. "Elizabeth." I said again, my throat choked with emotion. She was suffering miserably and I could do nothing to help it. I reached out a tentative hand and slowly pulled back the hair which hung down, hiding her tear-streaked face. She recoiled ever so slightly, turning towards me, her eyes wide and uncertain. Tears still flowed down her cheeks, but her sobs quieted as I took a step closer, her face tilted towards me outlined in blue moonlight. I took one of her trembling white hands in my own, my face only inches from hers, small, slow gasps of sorrow escaping her perfect lips. I was breathing heavily now, lingering, shallow breaths that, coupled with the wine I'd had at dinner, made me feel dizzy and suddenly hot. Elizabeth's sobbing slowed, and her breathing soon matched mine. I swallowed hard, everything in my being urging me to close the space between our lips, to dry her tears with the passion I felt, to win her love by illustrating mine. _

_Yet there was a look in her eyes that stopped me. Not just the fear I had sensed before, but a plea. She didn't pull away, she didn't take her hand from mine, but her eyes begged me--for what I don't know--but the desperation there checked my heady ardor. I exhaled, suddenly aware that we were both trembling, as I stepped back. I bent slowly over her hand, bestowing it with the tenderest of kisses. As I straightened I thought I glimpsed a thank you in those soft brown eyes that once again filled with tears. Silently, she withdrew her hand and hurried past me below decks._

_I stood there alone in the moonlight, troubled and confused. What was this fear, this deep sorrow of Elizabeth's? I had never seen her so unhappy before. The memory of that look in her eyes pierced me painfully, and mingled with my doubts about William Turner and, I realized, the feelings of guilt that began to creep upon me. _

"_Why didn't you go ahead and kiss her then, Jimmy?" _

_My face instantly contorted into the deepest scowl I could muster. Jack Sparrow stepped out of the shadows a few yards away. The absolute last person in the universe that I wanted to see at that moment. He sneered at me, and I noticed (inwardly cursing the incompetence of the crew) that he had managed not only to escape the brig, but he had somehow gotten his hands on a bottle of the Governor's brandy. To my convoluted mix of emotions was added fury and disgust._

"_Sparrow." I growled. "What are you doing here?"_

_He pinched his face into mock contrition. "Sorry Jimmy. I couldn't sleep down there in the dark. Gives me nightmares." _

_I inwardly cursed myself for leaving my sword in the captain's cabin. Outwardly I cursed at Sparrow. "You rum-soaked whoreson." I recalled the foul language of my seafaring youth. I was so angry I could hardly speak the words._

_He was unaffected. "That's not very nice--me mother's a lovely woman. Looks a bit like you, in fact. 'Cept with a rather better figure than what you've got." He gave a snicker and took a pull from his bottle. "And it's Brandy, by the way."_

_I let out a noise that was halfway between a snarl and a "bastard." _

"_Yes sir, Jimmy-my-boy." He drawled on. "I couldn'ah found a better love scene in Drury Lane. But you didn't kiss her." Another pull on the bottle. "s'wat I'da done. Ever'y good love scene needs a kiss."_

"_Unlike, you, Mr. Sparrow, I acknowledge the rules of propriety." _

"_Oh to be sure, Jimmy. But you know what I think?" He brought the bottle to his lips again, and teetered toward me as he spoke. "I think you cling to your precious rules and your precious society and your fancy hat and your fancy coat just because with out 'em--you'd have nothing. You'd be nothing. You'd just be simple little Jimmy-James Norrington. Not the virtuous, godly, right honorable Commodore--but a human being." He spat at me. He was close enough now I could smell the stench of the brandy as he leered at me. At that moment I felt I could not be more miserable if I were in flames. The worst part was that, somewhere in my subconscious a fear began to creep upon me like a fevered chill. The fear that he was right, that I could so easily switch places with the man swaying drunkenly before me. For a fraction of a fraction of a second the idea seemed appealing to me. I began to imagine myself taking Elizabeth, vanquishing Turner and not having to worry about any of it anymore. Horrified by such vulgar and mercenary thoughts, I pushed them away, livid at Sparrow for causing them._

" '_s Somethin' ta think about, eh, Jimmy?" Before he could bring the bottle to his lips again I released my fist and knocked him hard to the deck. He lay there unconscious, whether from the drink or my blow I cannot say. I stooped, and, I am ashamed to say, let fly a few more powerful clouts upon his drunken form. Ignoring the tumult of my emotions, and the few tears that had wet my blazing cheeks, I bellowed for the nearest sailor to come and deposit Mr. Sparrow in the brig--and to "keep him there this time or it'll be your hide!"_

_I turned, searching for some place to be alone and sort through the inferno in my breast. I cursed Captain Lewis for occupying his cabin, cursed the ship for being so small and so open, cursed god and the world and my own pathetic self. I strode to the nearest knotted ladder and began to climb. I felt the familiar coarseness of the rope against my palms, and the sway of the ship becoming more pronounced as I climbed ever higher. Finally I reached one of long yards that held the sails out to catch the wind. I straddled myself securely over the staunch wooden arms as I had been taught to do when just a boy. The wind swirled past me, stinging my eyes and mingling with the almost invisible tears escaping with my silent and enraged sobs. Above me, the Caribbean moon shone between black clouds, and unbeknownst to me, in cave on an obscure island, pirates planned a murder._

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Author's Note: Hello all! I know it's been a long time and I apologize. Thank you for bearing with me and being such loyal readers in spite of my eternal absences. Certainly not the happiest chapter for James, but as we all know it doesn't get too much better from here on out. If you are living la vie collegiate like me, then I wish you the best of luck with all final papers/projects/exams!


	22. Chapter 21

-1**Chapter Twenty-One**

_I was still aloft when I heard the call that land was sighted. As the ship began to bustle below me, I scurried down the ropes, trying to look as though I had never left the deck. I set my jaw and threaded my way through the crowds of sailors and marines that were cluttering up the deck. Once, out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw Elizabeth, but I didn't even bother to look for her. For a few minutes at least I didn't want to think about Elizabeth and the tumult of emotions she caused. I was glad for the battle at hand. With death staring you in the face, you had little time to worry about anything else._

_I met Captain Lewis on the bridge. He was already bellowing orders at the men. Marine sergeants chivvied the red-coated men into ranks, while sailors shouted at other sailors to heave as the boats were loosed from their fastenings. The Captain turned to me._

"_So, what's the plan, Commodore?" _

_I was about to explain when I spied Jack Sparrow approaching. This time, at least, he was restrained by two marines._

"_Private, why is this man not below?" I made my voice and my demeanor as ferocious as I possibly could._

" '_e said 'e 'ad something to tell you, sir. I thought as maybe 'e knew something we ought to know--for the battle, Commodore, sir." _

_Captain Lewis replied for me. "Thank you, private. Hold him there and he'll go in our boat."_

_I looked at him, confused. _

"_I'd rather have him with me than here on my ship causing trouble. Many a Captain's lost his ship to a pirate that way before. Brig or no."_

_I was annoyed by Sparrow's presence, but I knew the Captain was right. In a few minutes we were lowering down in a longboat, Sparrow perched over my shoulder like a diseased parrot. _

_When we had rowed a good distance into the bay-like perimeter of the island, a ghostly black ship with tattered sails emerged from the mist, hovering only a few hundred yards away from where we sat. At last, I realized that the Black Pearl was a real ship, and I heard the quiet exclamations of the men as they, too, realized that the vessel we were approaching was the very same they had whispered of late at night in the darkness of their swinging bunks. For a moment my pulse quickened as my mind scanned over all of the other tales I had heard about the Pearl and her crew. _

"_Steady lads." I heard Captain Lewis reassure the men, "Only a ship." This calm sentence brought me back to my senses, and I pushed away the grim memories of my last encounter with the Pearl's crew. _

_I clicked open my glass, examining the black ship. She was a fine piece, I had to admit, made for speed, though her tattered sails were certainly not an advantage. The decks were empty, but her guns leaned menacingly through their ports._

"_They'll all be inside." Sparrow remarked, casually._

"_Inside?" I asked, my voice dripping with disdain. In response, he pointed to a spot just to the right of where the Pearl was anchored. Taking a closer look, I saw that the jagged rocks parted, creating a narrow inlet that led, if Sparrow was to be believed, into some kind of cave. I didn't want Sparrow to be right. I scanned the Pearl's empty deck once more._

"_I don't care for the situation." I opined to the Captain, who was looking through his own glass beside me. "Any attempt to storm the caves could turn into an ambush."_

"_Not if you're the one doing the ambushing." Sparrow placed an arm on my shoulder conspiratorially as he unraveled his plan. "I go in and convince Barbossa and his men to send his men out here with their little boats. You and your mates return to the Dauntless and blast the b'Jesus out of them with your little cannons, eh? What do you have to lose?"_

_He stank, and I wanted nothing more than to throw him out of the boat right there. I knew he was trying to get under my skin, to raise my temper so I might lose the clarity that was so vital to a successful battle. Then with that clarity gone and my temper up, he would take advantage of me, and lead me and my men into a trap, making a fool of me for his own amusement. I relaxed myself and coolly replied._

"_Nothing I'd lament being rid of." _

"_Now, to be quite honest with you," Sparrow piped up again, "there's still a slight risk to those aboard the Dauntless which includes the future Mrs. Commodore."_

_In a few minutes the message had been yelled back to the Dauntless where the crew were undoubtedly carrying out my orders to secure Elizabeth in the Captain's cabin. In addition, a longboat was to be sent for Mr. Sparrow so that he might make certain 'negotiations' with the enemy._

_I felt a smug sense of satisfaction watching him pull away toward the mouth of the cave. He would be caught in his own trap and then I could finally hang him. _

_The minutes passed. The men and officers chatted quietly as we waited. I heard the familiar, nervous laughter of last minute jokes and teasing. None of us knew whether we would come out of this alive, and the waiting only made the situation worse. Above us the Caribbean moon slipped in and out from behind ominous clouds, and I silently hoped that it wouldn't rain. The night was uncomfortably hot and the air thick with fog that shrouded us from our attackers; and, I thought agitatedly, our attackers from us. I tried in vain not to imagine the bloody chaos in store for our small force. And all of this for Elizabeth. This was foolish I knew. I was risking my men, placing them here like sitting ducks, all to rescue one man. All because Elizabeth had asked me to do it. I fervently wished I could turn back, leaving Will and Sparrow here, all of my problems forgotten on an obscure island out here in the Caribbean; but it was too late. I had given my word, and I could not betray my honor. Nor, I admitted, could I ever betray my dear Elizabeth._

_Beside me Captain Lewis had pulled out his pipe and was contentedly puffing away. _

"_Care for some, Commodore?" He offered, waving his pipe in my direction._

"_No thank you, Captain."_

"_She'll be all right." He commented, mistaking my silent contemplation for worry about Elizabeth. _

"_Yes." I responded, keeping my eyes fixed ahead of me, watching for any signs of movement. "You are not married, Captain?"_

"_No, Commodore, I am not." He paused. "I was engaged once." He grinned. "Why d'you think I joined the navy?"_

_I chuckled a little, in spite of myself. "Was she that awful?"_

"_No, she wasn't." He replied, solemnly. "But her mother was." He made a face._

_I laughed again. _

"_Besides, married life's not for me. Give me the sea any day. Just when you think you're out of danger then something else comes along to make you piss your pants. That's living." _

_As he fell silent, I noted that in the last few minutes, the water had become unusually choppy. At last something was happening. A boat appeared at the mouth of the cave. Instead of pirates, it contained two ladies. The men, eager to begin the battle, quickly raised their waiting muskets. I directed them to hold their fire, and they began instead to gawk at the small vessel's passengers. A few of them made some remarks that pushed the bounds of decency and were quickly hushed by the officers. Behind me, one man fired off his gun accidentally. _

_The ladies seemed undaunted, but continued to row towards the Dauntless. I felt sure the Lieutenant would see to them, and kept my eyes fixed on the mouth of the cave, certain that the battle would ensue at any minute. I was surprised when I heard a gunshot--coming not from the cave, but from the deck of the Dauntless. My insides knotted as I felt myself losing control of the situation. Damn that Sparrow! There must be another way out of the cave! _

_I didn't hesitate._

"_Make for the ship! Move!" I bellowed. The men responded, pulling hard at the oars, speeding us towards the Dauntless. I joined the bosuns and sergeants as they shouted at the men, spurring them onward. In a moment we were spotted, and the water sprayed in great fountains around us as the cannons began their job. My head reeled as a ball landed not two feet from where I half stood in the leading boat, willing my voice to be heard over the cannon blasts. _

"_Marines! Arms!" I barked, and around me the muskets banged into shoulders and spit bullet and flame at our attackers._

_We edged closer and closer to the Dauntless, my clothes laden with seawater as the boat beside ours was blown to bits. _

_-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

_At last we reached the painted hull of the Dauntless. With a fearsome cry the men leapt to the deck, muskets and bayonets ready to avenge their shipmates. I swallowed the vomit that rose to my throat as I spied our opponents. Gruesome figures of bone and sinew, with hollow cheeks and fiery eyes were cutting down my men left and right. I had only a moment to make this assessment, as one of the skeletal figures advanced towards me. Raising my pistol I put a bullet through his skull, but he kept moving, impervious. I felt the fear and adrenaline flood through my veins, and I narrowly missed an axe blade that swooped past my head. I turned on my attacker, drawing my sword and giving a yell. _

_I focused on my technique, my skill keeping him on the defensive. A few times I managed to thrust home, delivering what should have been killing blows, only to watch him sneer and laugh as he once again leapt at me unharmed. As the moments passed, I felt the panic growing within me. How long until my strength gave out, before my defense slackened and I joined the other bodies piling up on the deck?_

_The battle raged on, my ears ringing with the sound of steel on steel, gunshots and the horrifying screams of dying men. I was desperate now, my swings becoming wide and inaccurate, barely attempting to parry my opponent's blows. My attacker was becoming sloppy as well, and he swung wide, allowing me to lunge forward, plunging my sword right where I thought his heart should be, hoping that such a direct blow would finish him. He seemed arrested by my blow, and, pulling out my blade I noticed that for the first time it was bloody. Panting, I looked back to my opponent, who was now covered in the skin and hair of a living person. He fell, finally dead, as around me swords and daggers and pistols clinked against the deck. The pirates were defeated._

Norrington lifted his quill and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes. Many long nights had been haunted by the memories of the battle aboard the _Dauntless_. After several long minutes he sighed, and once again took up his pen.

_I surged with relief. Around me swords and bayonets closed in on the captive pirates. _

"_The ship is ours, gentlemen." I announced calmly. Cheers rang out around me. But I only cared for one thing._

_In a flash I was at the door of the Captain's cabin, only to meet Governor Swann's drawn face as he emerged. I looked past him for Elizabeth._

"_She's not here, James." I looked at him, unbelieving. He watched as I entered the cabin, discovering a knotted rope of linens and tablecloths that hung out of the cabin's stern window. I looked back at the Governor. Our eyes met, understanding at once where Elizabeth had gone._

_I felt suddenly weary, and my sword arm and the old wound on my wrist throbbed angrily. All of my being urged me to go to her. I had survived this battle with hell, and all I wanted was Elizabeth. Her gentle light would cancel all of the blackness I had just endured. Yet I knew I could not leave my command. I was about to send some men to fetch Elizabeth from the cave, when I heard a thud towards the bow of the ship._

"_It's the Captain, sir!" A voice called out. I rushed to the place where the voice had come from, and where Captain Lewis no longer stood holding his blade against one of the pirates' throats. I saw in a moment that he had a bullet wound in this thigh, and a stab wound through his chest and, I surmised as I listened to his tortured breathing, through his lung as well. I knew he had no more than a few moments to live, and I knelt down beside him and took his hand in my own. _

"_Captain?" He blinked at me and a small groan emerged among the wheezing breaths._

"_Thank you." I blurted. "For everything. If it weren't for you…" He stopped me with a squeeze of my hand. I noted how weak his grip was. I heard his breathing become heavier and I could tell he was trying to say something._

_Between the wheezing and the coughing, he managed to get out, so softly that I could barely hear it "Just…marry…the girl." He pulled the corners of his mouth back ever so slightly, showing that his grizzled sense of humor was still present. I smiled back, trying not to show my concern._

_His short sentence had taken a great deal of effort, and he began to cough and wheeze even harder, his body shaking, his hand spasming in mine. I hooked an arm under his shoulders and pulled him upright, as blood spilled from his nose and mouth. He coughed and sputtered and gasped, and the ship watched in a reverent silence. I heard a terrible gurgling in his throat as his body made its last attempts to draw in precious air. Then, suddenly, he was silent._

_I laid him back on the deck. For a few moments I stood there, watching his still form. I was saddened by his death, as one always is for a good seaman, but there was more than that. Though I did not always agree with his methods, I admired his ability, and perhaps I saw in him something of what I hoped to become. He was 'a devil of a good man,' as my uncle used to say, and I was heartily sorry to see him lying there, looking so lonely in the moonlight. I was also aware, as I had tried to tell him in his last moments, how key his unique insight had been in finding Elizabeth, how he had rescued my whole world from a fate worse than death. _

_I tore my gaze away from those staring eyes, and the blood-stained mouth as the awed silence was broken by a "Boat off the starboard, sir!"_

_I looked, and without needing my telescope I could tell that the boat contained Mr. Sparrow, Mr. Turner, and, my heart sighed with relief, Elizabeth. _

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Author's Note: I hope everyone had a great holiday! I apologize for the length and the general re-hashing of the plot in this chapter. I'm thinking one more chapter should do it for film one. Enjoy!


	23. Chapter 22

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

_It was three days before we reached Port Royal. During that time Elizabeth kept mostly to her cabin, and when she ventured out she wandered quietly about the ship like a ghost. When she was addressed she rallied momentarily, but would soon excuse herself to return once again to her cabin. I had it from Estrella that she was sleeping a great deal and barely eating, and her soft brown eyes seemed larger and emptier than ever. _

"_She's merely mourning a little. All girls grow melancholy just before their weddings. It means they must finally put way their dolls and begin to think about other things," The Governor assured me when I expressed my concern for Elizabeth's behavior, though he didn't sound entirely convinced himself. _

_"In a girl's life nothing can be done without a few tears." He smiled reassuringly and patted me on the arm. "Once we return to Port Royal she'll be as excited about the wedding as you are." _

_Elizabeth emerged form her cabin for a short while that first morning, as we sent Captain Lewis to his final resting place at sea. She stood there beside her father, her jaw set resolutely, her eyes glistening with silent tears. After the solemn ceremony wine was served for the officers and passengers and the men were given a special ration of rum for the day. A toast was drunk to the Captain's memory, and as I raised my glass a second time to respond to another, I saw Elizabeth slip away from the company and move to the rail. I put down my glass and went to her side. _

_Standing beside her, I was able to see the slow silent tears siding down her cheeks as she gazed blankly into the sunrise. Her lip quivered just enough to betray her distress. Once again I was awash in anguish and bewilderment. Why did she cry so? Surely it could not be for the Captain. Honorable though he was, she had barely known the man. _

_I dropped my gaze to the railing where her slender fingers made a stark contrast against the dark polished wood. Without a word, I moved my hand and placed it upon hers, letting it rest there as I once again directed my gaze out at the horizon. I heard a tremulous sigh escape her lips, and I felt her fingers turn and curve around mine. She looked up at me and flashed a sad smile, before giving my hand a small squeeze and turning away. _

_I watch her walk over to her father and embrace him, this time letting her sobs become a degree more audible. He was crying too, and as I watched them I felt the lump rise into my own throat. _

_I was aware I was watching the display rather too closely for politeness, and I averted my gaze, to find that I was not the only one observing this spectacle. On the other side of the deck Will Turner's face was fixed with an expression of concern, and perhaps a degree of wistfulness. I realized suddenly that such paternal scenes were alien to him. I felt a flicker of pity, wondering what it must have been like to grow up under the inebriated Mr. Brown, who was either awake and throwing insults and horseshoes or, as was more usual, comatose. _

_Our eyes met for an ephemeral moment. Then he turned away and went to join the crew who were below decks enjoying their rum and singing noisily. _

_Turner joined their ranks for the rest of the voyage which gave me the assurance that he was not with Elizabeth, but exacerbated my worries by the fact that he was always around; hovering aloft among the yards or tying off a bit of rope just beyond whatever paper I was looking over. _

_I was busy, since I assumed the Captaincy in Lewis's absence, but my doubts and that sense of guilt continued to nag at me, and at night my mind was a tumult of clouded nightmares. I tried to tell myself to be happy, that I was getting the thing I wanted; Elizabeth as my wife, but with her in despair I could not rejoice. I could only hope that our return to Port Royal would have the effect that the governor predicted._

_On top of all of this, I was paranoid that Sparrow was going to escape. Every chance I could find, day or night, I descended to the brig to make sure that his guard of a half a dozen marines still knew the whereabouts of their captive. _

_-----_

_We arrived at our destination on the afternoon of the third day, slipping into a harbor shrouded in a gentle rain. As I descended the gangplank I felt the gloom lift away from me. The end of any other voyage would have had the exact opposite effect. _

_I bid Elizabeth and her father a short goodbye, promising to call as soon as I could to ensure they had settled in comfortably. From there I walked straight to my house, were Mozart was ready with a hot bath. I waved away the cup of hot coffee he offered and, freshly scrubbed, collapsed wearily into bed._

_The next day I awoke late, but immediately dressed and went to the fort. After reviewing the security measures taken by Gilette to ensure Mr. Sparrow's "comfort" as he waited for his appointment with the hangman, I set about gathering the necessary documents for his trial. Pirate or no, the law must be upheld, and he had the right to a fair hearing. _

_Later that evening I was taking a late supper and reading through arrest records and accounts regarding "Jack Sparrow, pirate, vagrant, and threat to the security of these royal colonies." I had secured a court date for Sparrow in two days' time, and I was feeling quite satisfied with myself. It would be a courtroom in the morning, and a noose by noon. Then this whole affair would be over, and I could focus on a far more important affair. _

_The next morning I called at the Governor's mansion, as I had promised, but Elizabeth was absent, once again making calls with Lady Barclay. I was disappointed. Seeing my scowl, the governor sighed exasperatedly._

"_Back a day and the woman's at it again." _

_I raised my eyebrows._

"_You haven't told her?"_

"_Elizabeth asked me not to announce the engagement just yet." He said apologetically._

_My brows lowered, knit into a frown. _

"_Lady Barclay is throwing a party, by the way." He continued. _

"_What for?" _

_The governor threw up his hands as if to say 'who knows?' Out loud he added "To celebrate your safe return."_

_The party was to be the next evening, and all of fashionable Port Royal was invited. Unfortunately, Lady Barclay informed me when she delivered the invitation later that morning, the ball room at Barclay Hall was undergoing renovations; and so 'dear Weatherby' had been so gracious as to volunteer his house for the event. I doubt he had any choice in the matter. _

_Mozart was excited by the prospect of a ball so soon after my arrival, and he spent a happy afternoon washing a brushing my uniform, and polishing the buttons so that they gleamed like the gold they were. I rode with the Admiral in his carriage, one of many that climbed the hill to the Governor's glorious mansion which seemed to glitter in the light of its torches. _

_The Dauntless' old cook was decent for a ship of His Majesty's Navy, but I have never had dinners that compared with those I've enjoyed at Governor Swann's table. The dinner passed in a flurry of sauces and spirits and crèmes, and at the end of it I had almost forgotten all of my troubles. Elizabeth had greeted me so warmly at the door that I felt sure that any unpleasantness must have melted in accordance with her father's predictions. _

_I watched her across the table where she was sitting with yet another of Port Royal's eligible bachelors. She was radiant as usual, and I suppressed a smile as I noticed that Lady Barclay must have used all of the powder on the island to cover up Elizabeth's 'unfashionable' tan. She was flirting and coquetting marvelously, and rather more than she was used to. I tried to convince myself that it was excitement with regards to our upcoming nuptials, but my good sense saw that her manners this evening seemed a bit forced. _

_The dancing commenced soon after dinner. Beaten to Elizabeth's first dance by her dinner companion, I found myself a spot where I could watch her and be ready to pounce when the music stopped. She bowed to her partner, and I lunged forward, seizing her hand before it could be snatched by another, and led her into the set that was beginning to form. _

_She giggled prettily. "Why of course I should love to dance with you, Commodore Norrington. I thought you might never ask." _

_I grimaced at this caricature she was playing. _

"_I did not want to lose you to anyone else." _

_Her smile faltered, and when it retuned I saw that it was with effort. "Why, Commodore, though we women may be possessed of many accomplishments, I assure you I can only dance with one partner at a time." _

_The dance separated us, and when she faced me again, her smile had grown stronger, but behind her laughing eyes I caught once again the sorrow that I realized had been lurking there all evening. _

"_Elizabeth," I said in a lower tone as the steps carried her past my shoulder. "are you in any distress? Would you like to quit this dance?"_

"_Nonsense," her voice chirruped back, "I'm having a glorious time. Perfectly marvelous. I love this dance."_

_I lapsed into silence. I was bothered by this concealment. Why was she behaving in this way? And why had she asked her father not to announce the engagement? What was she ashamed of?_

"_Come now, Commodore, you are being a very dull partner. What would your admiral say?" She grinned broadly and whirled around as the dance dictated. She then ducked under the arm of a sandy young gentleman in a claret-colored waistcoat. She halted, missing the step to reenter the set. I moved around the gentleman to my right and turned quickly to see what had caused her mistake. _

_She stood frozen, back to me, facing the large windows that were opened onto a terrace that led down into the garden. I took the opportunity to duck out of the dance, and just as I did, I saw what it was that had caused her such distress. In the nearest opening, silhouetted in the flickering torchlight was William Turner, dressed in a modest but fashionable set of evening clothes, standing and looking at her in a way that made my blood stir with jealousy. _

_-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

Author's Note: Ok, so maybe another chapter. I never get these things right. Bit of a long chapter with this one, but at least it's a chapter. I was afraid I might not get another one out any time soon with school. I'll try to finish up COTBP very soon. This was another of those 'I just started writing chapters,' and it's certainly one of my more Austenian chapters.

Btw--I need your opinion. As we are nearing the end of movie one, I'm contemplating making movies two and three be separate installments. For example, this story would become "The Memoirs of James Norrington Part 1" and then there would be a Part 2 and 3 to coincide with the movies. I thought this might break it up and make it less daunting to read. The other option is, of course to continue adding to this as one long story. Comment and let me know what you would prefer. J


	24. Chapter 23

-1**Chapter Twenty-Three**

_Only a few seconds passed before I was at Elizabeth's side. She was pale, and when I took her hand she wavered a little. I put an arm around her to steady her._

"_Take me to the library," she murmured, and I obeyed, steering her through the crowded dance floor, aware that every pair of eyes in the room followed us, and every nose sniffed the fresh gossip. _

"_Elizabeth! Wait--" A voice echoed above the music, causing the dance to stop completely as the entire party gawked at the speaker._

_I glanced over my shoulder and saw Turner crossing the polished floor, moving deliberately towards Elizabeth's sagging form. I saw the doors looming only a few feet away, and somehow I felt that if I could reach them before Turner then I would have won some small victory. _

_As we were passing under the lintel I turned again, and breathed a sigh of relief as I saw that Turner had been arrested by the Governor and Lady Barclay with her barricade of skirts. _

_Confident in that lady's powers of persuasion, and the strength of Governor Swann's footmen, I refocused on Elizabeth, who seemed to be reviving a little as we shuffled down the cool hallway towards the other end of the house where the library was._

_The moment the staunch oaken doors closed behind us, Elizabeth broke from my grasp and seated herself rather melodramatically on the nearest couch, burying her face in a tasseled cushion and sobbing. _

_I waited a few moments before joining her on the couch, placing a hand on her shoulder and proffering a glass of ruby colored liquid with the other. She looked up, waving away either service, rising testily and moving to one of the heavy shelves that enclosed the room. _

"_Elizabeth, I'm sorry." I said, dumbfounded. She gave a little yelping sob._

"_There's nothing for you to apologize for, James." Came the quivering reply. Then she added pitifully, "It's my fault."_

"_Elizabeth," _

_I rose, checking myself before I embraced her from behind. _

"_Elizabeth, what's wrong? What happened between you and Turner? Why does he upset you so?"_

_The mention of Mr. Turner's name elicited a small wail and she bowed her head into her hand as her sobs got quieter and more heartbroken. _

"_Elizabeth," I tried again, angry with myself for not having any words of comfort to give her. _

_This time I stepped forward, slipping an arm across her shoulders. To my surprise, she leaned into it, resting her head against my forearm. As silent tears slid down her cheeks, her breathing became more normal, and she whimpered a question:_

"_James, why do you want to marry me?" _

"_What?" I was taken completely aback._

"_There are so many women who would make you a better wife," she blurted out miserably, "women who deserve you, women who would make you so much happier than I can--" Releasing her, I stepped in front of her so that I could look her in the eyes._

"_You're wrong," I said, more violently than I had intended. "No one can make me happy except you." _

_My voice swelled with emotion and my heart swam in my eyes. With one hand I gently swept a tear from Elizabeth's still pallid cheek. The other hand closed around her slim fingers._

"_Elizabeth, I want to marry you because I don't think I can live without you. I want to marry you because…" I struggled to find the words, "because I feel more alive when I'm near you, because you make me…free." I was surprised by my own admission. _

"_I want to marry you, my darling Elizabeth, because I love you." _

_There. I had finally said it. Elizabeth's expression was unreadable. _

_Still drunk with emotion, I sunk down onto one knee._

"_That is why, dear, wonderful Elizabeth, I offer you my hand, my heart, and a share in my life's adventures." _

_Before she was able to respond, the library doors burst open, revealing the formidable Lady Barclay in all her glory. Her shrewd eyes took in the scene just before Elizabeth and I sprung apart. She pulled 'dear Weatherby' through the doorway behind her and with great purpose snapped the doors shut. Then she turned to face us. _

"_So." She said accusingly, letting the silence linger after her as if waiting for a confession. _

_When none came, she continued. "I can see what has been going on here. Not that I didn't suspect something of this sort, but you should have been a gentleman, Commodore, and asked her father first." 'And me' I could hear her mind finish._

"_Actually," the Governor piped up with what might have been amusement in his voice, "He did."_

_Lady Barclay rounded on him, the fury that she felt at her ignorance of the engagement doubled. _

"_You knew? Why wasn't I informed at once, Weatherby? I'm only practically the girl's mother! I've only brought her into society. I've only taken her under my wing and seen to it that she secures all the best marriage prospects! Why if it weren't for me--"_

"_It was my doing, Lady Barclay." Elizabeth interrupted the tirade, once again the confident, headstrong woman that I recognized. _

_Lady Barclay's eyes narrowed even further and she opened her mouth to respond, but Elizabeth cut her off. _

"_If I am to become engaged it shall be up to me whom I tell and when. I appreciate your efforts towards my happiness, but I may remind you that however close your connection with this family you are not my mother, and I will marry James with or without your approval." _

_She finished this speech with a brisk curtsey and pushed past Her Ladyship's dumfounded expression, through the door and, her feet slamming angrily against the marble steps, upstairs. _

_I took the first opportunity to escape myself, the evening over for me as well. Later in my bunk I took comfort in Elizabeth's parting words: 'I will marry James with or without your approval.' _

A rap sounded on the Admiral's cabin door.

"Enter," he called, looking up from his paper and into the face of his host. "Evening Captain. What can I do for you?"

"We'll be reaching our destination any day now. I was hoping to speak to you about something before we do."

Norrington glanced at the pages stacked neatly on his small desk.

"As a matter of fact there's something I wanted to ask you."

Will's eyebrows raised curiously. "Well, go ahead." He prompted.

"You remember after we returned from Isla de Muerta, that party Lady Barclay had; the ball?"

The captain's eyes filled with recognition. "Yes," he replied warily.

"Well, I was just wondering, you will forgive my impertinence, but; I have never quite understood what you were doing there that night."

Norrington flushed, aware of how rude his question sounded. But he was genuinely interested and so waited for the answer.

His companion shifted uncomfortably, and sported a little rouge in his own complexion.

"I, uh, needed to talk to Elizabeth about something," Will said evasively.

"Might I inquire what the topic of this discussion was to be?" Norrington pushed, ignoring the fact that he had no right to the information he was seeking.

Will coughed. "I…wanted her to run away with me," he admitted, sheepishly.

Norrington felt the younger man's embarrassment fill the small room.

"Ah."

A long moment passed. Norrington cleared his throat.

"What was it you wanted to speak to me about, Captain?"

"I'll tell you later." Came the hasty reply. "Goodnight, Admiral."

With that, William Turner almost ran up the ladder-like steps to the main deck and away from the embarrassment of his foolish, lovesick youth.

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Author's Note: So I didn't finish with this chapter, but instead, you get a double feature: two updates at once!


	25. Chapter 24

-1Warning: Rated E for Emo.

_**Chapter Twenty-Four**_

_When I awoke the next morning, _James Norrington wrote, _it took me a moment to remember what day it was. My dreams had been so filled with Elizabeth that I had almost forgotten that today was the day that Captain Jack Sparrow came to trial. _

_I went straight to the gaol after breakfast, relaxing when I arrived at the cell door to see Sparrow sprawled on the floor with his hat on his face, snoring loudly. _

"_Rise and shine, Mr. Sparrow!" I barked at him, making him start awake. _

_Despite my worries that Sparrow might pull another of his vanishing tricks, I was morbidly cheerful, glad that he would be out of my hair soon. _

"_Good morning Commodore. Lovely day for a trial." He returned mockingly. Then as his escort of a dozen marines tramped down the stairs he added, "Commodore Norrington, you shouldn't have. I didn't get you anything."_

_------_

_I liked the Port Royal courtroom. It was cramped and, due to its few windows, hot and poorly lit. But it reminded me of being onboard a ship, and therefore, I had a fondness for it. It was also a temple of justice, and as sacred to me as any church. _

_Today its staunch wooden benches were quite full, each manner of man or woman that Sparrow had ever offended was represented: tradesmen and honest seamen, pretty maids and nefarious looking men of all shapes and sizes; all were present to see Captain Jack Sparrow face justice. Some of them, perhaps, were hoping for one of Jack's miraculous escapes, but I had taken every measure to assure that there would be none. There were bars on the courthouse windows, and half of the marines in Port Royal were surrounding the courthouse or posted in key places throughout the town. I would not be made a fool again._

_There were four judges for the case: myself, Admiral Braithwaite, Mr. Wythe (the Judicial Councilor from the Governor's Council), and of course Governor Swann himself. For most civil cases, Mr. Wythe was the sole adjudicator, but this was a case requiring more than the usual gravity. _

_Because Sparrow had no attorney, the trial was routinely straightforward. One after one, witnesses came forward, accounts and arrest records were read. Sparrow didn't attempt to refute any one of the accusations lodged against him, he just sat lackadaisically in his chair. After a while I realized he was asleep. _

_He had just begun to snore through Captain Binney's account of the attack on the HMS Gaivota, when a loud voice made him, and everyone else in the courtroom, sit up. _

"_You honor, I am here to speak on behalf of Captain Jack Sparrow." _

_In the doorway stood Elizabeth, dressed in her very best walking outfit, standing with her chin up and her shoulders squared, her eyes fiery with indignation. Angry though I was that Elizabeth and I should once again be on the opposite sides of this old argument, I could not help remarking how stunningly irresistible she looked. _

"_May I approach the bench, your honor?" She continued, her strong voice filling the chamber. _

_His Honor, who was, in fact, her father, sat silent for a moment, his face furrowed with indecision. Finally he spoke. _

"_Miss Swann, I would be greatly obliged if you left this matter to the authorities and went home."_

_Elizabeth didn't miss a beat. Ignoring the command from her father, she replied saucily, "Well sir, if you won't let me come up there, I shall just have to speak from here." _

_The spectators in the gallery laughed, enjoying the face-off that was far more interesting than the last half-hour of testimonies. _

_I was torn between displeasure at Elizabeth's interference and admiration for her strength and determination. _

_Governor Swann's face clouded. Under his gaze, Elizabeth and the crowd sobered._

"_Miss Swann," every word was dripping with a plea, "You will please cease making a mockery of this sacred chamber. You will remove yourself at once."_

_Elizabeth stood for a moment, arguing with herself. She looked at Sparrow, who mouthed something to her that made her shake her head, sadly. When she spoke, it was without her previous defiance._

"_Very well. I will honor the court's decision."_

_Governor Swann met her gaze in a grateful, fatherly look. She turned, every eye upon her as she stalked out of the room. _

_The trial ended without further excitement, and Sparrow's hanging was set for the next afternoon. _

_I did not see Elizabeth or her father until then, spending most of my time at the fort to quiet my growing paranoia that Sparrow would escape. _

_Meanwhile, Port Royal spread the news that the notorious pirate, Jack Sparrow, was going to be hanged. Sparrow was such a celebrity that the hanging became quite a fashionable to-do, and Lady Barclay was even serving a sandwich tea directly afterwards. _

_I am not one of the bloodthirsty sort who take pleasure in a hanging, and even though I have seen many in my day, they still make me gag inwardly. But I was looking forward to this hanging because once it was over there would be no more Sparrow for me to worry about. There was something about the man that unnerved me, maybe even scared me, more than any other pirate had before. I was haunted by his words to me that night on the Dauntless, and I felt that once he had died then so would my doubts and fears._

_The afternoon of the hanging was unseasonably cool, but still hot, being a Caribbean afternoon. Many of the characters from the day before had exchanged courtroom for courtyard, and milled and chatted as they waited for the ceremony to begin. The local grocer, never one to miss an opportunity, had hired a handful of handsome maids to sell oranges and other refreshments to stevedores and stuffed shirts alike. _

_Governor Swann and Elizabeth stood with the rest of fashionable Port Royal under the stone arches of the fort, shaded from the heavy sun. So far, Elizabeth appeared to show no signs of faintness, but Estrella was nearby in case she had another fainting spell. _

_Scattered along the ramparts, and again in strategic locations throughout the town, the other half of Port Royal's marines stood on their guard. I gave the order to begin the proceedings and took my place beside the governor. _

_The drums began a march and Jack Sparrow entered the square amid a swarm of marines, their red jackets gleaming in the sunlight. He seemed quite resigned to his fate, and met the jeers and projectiles directed at him with indifference. He mounted the scaffold and stood beneath the wicked noose as the long list of his offences was read. _

_From beside Governor Swann I heard Elizabeth say, "This is wrong."_

_I felt the accusation keenly, but there was nothing I could do. Sparrow was a pirate. He had been tried fairly, found guilty, and he must hang. That was the law. Besides, I thought childishly, he needed to stop ruining my life._

"_Commodore Norrington is bound by the law," the governor came to my rescue, "As are we all." _

_He gave his daughter a look that said that he had not wanted to hear it yesterday, and that he didn't want to hear it today._

_We lapsed back into silence. I kept my eyes fixed on Sparrow as if he might vanish the moment I broke eye contact._

_Which I did a moment later, as young Turner approached. All three of us tensed, and my eyes flew immediately to Elizabeth. She was composed, staring resolutely ahead of her._

"_Elizabeth," _

_Now she looked at him. I kept my eyes fixed on her face, ready to rush to her at any sign of distress. _

"_I should have told you every day from the moment I met you. I love you."_

_The words pierced my confidence. Elizabeth's face revealed nothing. I looked back to rebuke Turner, but he was gone, moving through the crowd toward the gallows. _

_I forgot my worries about Elizabeth in a moment._

"_Marines!" I bellowed over the drum roll, ready to give the command to arrest Turner before he could cause any trouble. I opened my mouth to do so when I heard Elizabeth gasp beside me._

_I turned in time to see her faint heavily against the stone floor. The Governor and I bent over her, trying to ascertain whether or not she had suffered a concussion as she landed. Behind us, Estrella had removed her fichu, ready to use it as a bandage if need be._

_I had my hand buried in Elizabeth's hair, feeling for any bump or signs of blood, when the drum roll ended, and her eyes flew open as she twisted herself up in time to see that something had gone wrong with the trap door. Sparrow was only half-hanged, the rope certainly applying an uncomfortable amount of pressure to his throat, but not the deadly snap of an execution. _

_Now I called the marines to action, pushing my way through the crowd as they ran from the ramparts and into the fray. Upon the platform, I could see Will doing battle with the bear of an executioner. _

_Before I knew what was happening, the man was on top of me, crushing my lungs and making it difficult to breathe. With the aid of a handful of marines I managed to shove him off of me, noticing as I did so that I was covered in his blood. When he had fallen he had impaled himself on my ready blade. _

_I had a moment to make this realization before I was dashing after Turner and Sparrow, who had scattered the elegantly dressed spectators on the port's seaward edge and were fighting through the oncoming marines. _

_Gillette made it there before me, and as I mounted the final step onto the parapet I was greeted by a most satisfying sight. _

_There stood Turner and Sparrow, surrounded on all sides by bayonets that glinted menacingly in the afternoon sun. I raised my sword to my opponent's throat._

"_I thought we might have to endure some manner of ill-conceived escape attempt," I addressed Mr. Turner, my voice smug and disdainful, "But not from you."_

_Now it was the governor's turn. _

"_On our return from Port Royal, I granted you clemency." I noticed Elizabeth appear at his elbow. "and this is how you thank me, by throwing in your lot with him? He's a pirate."_

"_And a good man." Turner returned evenly. "If all I have achieved here is that the hangman will earn two pairs of boots instead of one ... So be it." He redirected his gaze at me. "At least my conscience will be clear."_

_I wanted to punch that self-righteous smirk off of his young face. How dare he! If he were a gentleman, I would have demanded satisfaction. Alas he was not a gentleman--_

"_You forget your place, Turner." --and I would not let him forget it. _

"_It's right here," he fired back, "between you and Jack." He stepped in front of Sparrow._

_I felt Elizabeth move beside me. She threaded her way past the bayonets and stood beside Turner._

"_As is mine," she proclaimed._

_At first, I was merely annoyed thinking that Elizabeth was continuing the performance she had been prevented from completing in court. Then I saw her hand enclosed in Turner's and saw the affection in the look that passed between them. _

_I felt hollow and suddenly sick as all of my doubts and fears crashed over me in a wave of heartbreak. My confidence was shattered._

"_So this is where your heart truly lies, then?" I heard myself saying._

"_It is," she said softly._

_I stood there, wanting to tell her she was making a mistake. Wanting to beg her to give me a chance. If only she would give me a chance I could make her love me. I could make her happy. I could give her everything she could ever want. _

_Yet all she wanted was Turner, my mind chimed in bitterly._

_Sparrow's voice and sour breath broke into my tortured thoughts. He was inches from my face, muttering something. Then he was gone, moving toward the edge of the rampart, and still raving._

_I only half-noticed that he was gone, and realized that he had fallen, or jumped, from the ramparts. My emotional haze began to clear as a call indicated a ship on the horizon. I looked, and saw the Black Pearl looming there. I realized that once again Sparrow had outwitted me, but the humiliation just added to the ache in my chest. _

_Gilette, ambitious as ever, addressed me. "What's your plan of action, sir?"_

_I couldn't think about strategy right now. My world was upside-down._

_Fortunately, the governor spoke for me. "Perhaps it is possible that on the rare occasion when pursuing the right demands an act of piracy, piracy can be the right course?"_

_I nodded, only half aware of what he had said. My eyes dropped to my sword. The sword that had seen me through the nightmares of the siege and the battle on board the Dauntless. When I received it I was on the top of the world. I'd achieved almost everything I wanted, and I had never met Captain Jack Sparrow. Now, all my dreams of that day were lost to me. _

_But I still had my sword. _

"_Mr. Turner!" I rounded on him. "This is a beautiful sword." _

_I wasn't quite sure what I wanted to say. _

"_I would expect the man who made it to show the same care and devotion in every aspect of his life." _

_My words were laced with a warning. But for some reason I wanted him to know that I had given up. "My compliments." I added, locking him in an intense gaze._

_For a moment we were equals, two men making a silent pact. We were admitting that we both loved her, and promising to act for her happiness. _

_I felt a small flicker of satisfaction in the realization that Elizabeth would be happy. I couldn't help thinking of her as a little girl, remembering how I'd watched out for her and taken care of her, more than she could ever know. If I could not continue that job, I needed to know that she was in the hands of someone who would. I wasn't entirely sure of Turner, but I was willing to let him prove himself._

_Now I turned to Elizabeth. The moment I looked in her eyes I was flooded with an ocean of conflicting emotions. She seemed to sense my distress because she placed one of her soft white hands on my face. _

"_James." was all she said, softly and with genuine affection. But it was enough. _

_I returned her smile, taking her hand from my face and bringing it to my lips. _

"_The best of luck to you both." I could hardly speak the words, the lump in my throat was so huge._

_We exchanged a final look of apology and forgiveness before I turned away, giving her up forever._

"_Commodore? What about Sparrow?" _

_Damn that Gillette! Could he forget about Sparrow for one moment? I didn't want to go hunting pirates. Even the sea could not heal the heartbreak of losing Elizabeth. All I wanted to do was to crawl into a hole somewhere and wallow in my misery._

"_I think we can afford to give him one day's head start." I answered him blankly, cutting off any reply by exiting the parapet. _

Norrington sighed, the old injury throbbing a little as he relived the events of that terrible day. Coming out of his reverie, the admiral was aware of a deal of commotion on the other side of his cabin door. When he poked his head out to see what was going on, a young lad of about thirteen called to him.

"Better get on deck, sailor."

"What's going on?"

"We're here."

James Norrington ducked back into his cabin. He sat for a moment on his bunk, possessed suddenly by an overwhelming gloominess.

So this was it. His voyage was finally over. He was to leave the sea forever. His beloved sea.

On the desk his unfinished memoirs seemed to mock him. It was silly of him to think that he could have finished them.

He sat in this state for a few moments. Then he stood, gathered his things, and with a sigh, closed the door on the last vestiges of the life he knew.

On deck, passengers were forming lines to get into the longboats. Norrington looked out off starboard and saw a flat but grassy shore, where a few of the first arrivals were standing greeting loved ones and friends.

Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw the powdered periwig of Weatherby Swann. His heart constricted, but in a moment the man was gone, and Norrington convinced himself he was mistaken.

He sighed heavily and crossed the deck to join one of the lines. Captain Turner met him halfway.

"Admiral. Did you finished your memoirs?"

"No. Not even half." The older man's voice was very tired.

"I've given you all the time I could. I can't keep you here any longer. You have to go." His voice was tinged with urgency. "Unless you join my crew."

James Norrington, former Admiral of the East India Company of the Caribbean, looked again at the distant, verdant shore. This time, he was sure he saw Governor Swann waving to him and laughing. He tore his gaze away, his will to live--if you could call this living--greater than his will to die.

"What would I do?" He asked, turning back to the Captain, who smiled.

"Leave that to me."

He held out a hand and James Norrington, having just cheated his final judgment, took it, hoping that he had made the right decision.

-----------

Author's Note: Gah!! Part 1 is finally over. I've been writing all afternoon just for you guys! I've decided to post movie two as a separate story, btw. I can't say how long it will before I fire up part two, but as a conciliation prize, "Chapter 26" is a character index for Part 1, just in case you want to go back and read it all over again and forget which characters are which.

Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me this far and for all your wonderful feedback and support!

**Factoid:** Oranges were common fare at theatrical events from the Elizabethan era on through the early 19th century. They were sold by attractive young girls in masks and little else, who often sold more than just fruit. Nell Gwynn, Charles II's famous mistress, and one of the most famous actresses of the Restoration stage, started her career as an orange-seller at the Theatre Royal.


	26. Character Index

-1**CHARACTERS (in order of appearance)**

**William "Black Bill" Turner** Current captain of the _Flying Dutchman, _Elizabeth's loving husband.

**Kirby ** Captain William Turner's steward aboard the _Dutchman_.

**"Bootstrap" Bill Turner** Will's father, crewman of the _Flying Dutchman_.

**The Admiral James Norrington** The hero of our story. If you don't know who he is…then you'd better stop reading right now.

**Bertram and Dorothea Norrington** James's parents.

**Captain Carriger** Captain of the _HMS Minerva_, young Norrington's first ship as a Midshipman.

**Captain Helmer** Captain of the _HMS Endurance_, Lieutenant Norrington's first ship, and the ship that carries James, Gov. Swann, Elizabeth, and Will to Port Royal.

**Governor Weatherby Swann** The King's Governor of Port Royal. Elizabeth's father and a dear friend of James, like a father to him.

**Elizabeth Swann** The love of James's life. Will's loving wife.

**Mr. Gibbs** Bosun of His Majesty's Navy, later pirate, now a shipmate to Captain Jack Sparrow.

**Mr. Brown** Port Royal's Blacksmith under whom Will apprentices.

**Admiral Michael Braithwaite** Admiral of the Caribbean. Marries Miss Parks.

**Miss Isabelle Parks** The elder of the two Parks sisters, marries Admiral Braithwaite.

**Miss Eyton** A young lady of Port Royal.

**Miss Latimer** A young lady of Port Royal. The governor nudges James towards her once. When he returns to Port Royal (after his first voyage as Captain) she is married.

**Miss Barclay** A young lady of Port Royal.

**Mr. Branson** Engaged to Miss Barclay.

**Lord Scott** Married to Miss Latimer.

**Mrs. Applegate** Another 'mama' of Port Royal. Her niece has come to live with her in Port Royal and is unattached.

**Meredith** A maid in the governor's household. Elizabeth is forced to dance with her during dancing lessons.

**Lady Carrigan** In his youth, Governor Swann stepped on her train at a dance and almost pulled it off.

**Sergeant Petersen** A marine sergeant. The one who comes to bring James the bad news about the epidemic.

**Fred Crowthers** A private in the marines. His wife Susan miraculously recovered from a critical illness thanks to a bargain made with Tia Dalma.

**Doctor Simmons** One of Port Royal's doctors.

**Father Hibbitts** The priest of Port Royal.

**Tia Dalma** A witchdoctor. The goddess of the sea, Calypso, in human form….see the movies…

**Lady Barclay** Miss Barclay's (now Mrs. Branson's) mother. She is sponsoring Elizabeth's introduction into society and doing her best to get her married to a wealthy gentleman.

**Mrs. Latimer** Miss Latimer's (now Lady Scott's) pleased mama.

**Lord Fontleigh** An aging, yet wealthy, Lord. A candidate for Elizabeth's hand in the eyes of Lady B. In Ch. 17 we find out he has married a girl named Maria.

**Mr. Dandridge** Another of Elizabeth's suitors. He dances with her at the ball, yet he would not be inclined to were she not handsome enough to tempt him. Much like another Mr. D we know…

**Miss Robertson** Red-headed young lady that Norrington dances with at Elizabeth's ball.

**Miss Berteaux** Another of Norrington's dance partners at Elizabeth's ball.

**Mr. Paradis** Miss Berteaux's lover.

**Mozart** Norrington's manservant. He is a mix of Caribbean and French.

**Capt. Emile Valette** Captain of the _Amie Marie_, a French privateer ship. Captain Valette is very fond of dueling. He loses to James, and thereby loses his ship.

**Mr. Graham** A gentleman from England, come to stay with Admiral Braithwaite. He has connections among the upper crust of the British Navy in England. He is instrumental in Norrington's promotion to Commodore.

**Mr. Wythe** A member of the Governor's Council. Holds the title of Judicial Councilor, presides over civil cases.

**Mrs. Wythe** His wife.

**Private Brooke** A 15-yr old private that Commodore Norrington chats with during the siege of Port Royal. He is engaged to a young girl named Meg. He dies in the siege.

**Private Murtogg** One of two marines that inhabit the first film, he sends the plot in the right direction by mentioning the _Black Pearl_.

**Captain Lewis** Captain of the _Dauntless_ during the search for Elizabeth (in COTPB). Gets stabbed through the lung and dies during the battle on the _Dauntless_ against the undead pirates.

**Lt. Palmer** Lieutenant on the _Dauntless_ during the search for Elizabeth (in COTBP). Many of Gillette's actions are given to him.

**Estrella** Elizabeth's lady's maid, who is on board the _Dauntless_ during the search for her mistress (in COTBP).

**Madame Phoebe** The owner of "The Blushing Nun," one of the more respectable brothels in Tortuga. Her sister owns a midwifery across the street.

**Suzanne** One of Madame Phoebe's girls, she has an encounter with Norrington during his visit to Tortuga (in COTBP).

**Captain Binney** Captain of the _HMS Gaivota_, testifies at Jack's trial.


End file.
